You Are My Last And My First
by Heartattackandvine
Summary: Blaine was lost, looking for an escape from the deception and monotony in his life. Kurt was young, vibrant, seeking. He just wanted to be understood. They found each other, amongst it all. Blaine is a 26 year old drug dealer, Kurt is a high school junior. This is their love story.
1. Prologue

Kurt felt his heart beating out his chest as he ran from the gym to his Navigator, breath harshly exiting his nose as his feet pounded down the front stairs of McKinley High School.

He'd thought he was finally standing up against his harassment.

He'd thought he was doing the _right thing_.

But now tears stained his cheeks and he could barely open his car door his hands were shaking with such shock and terror.

He'd kissed him. Karofsky had kissed him.

The boy who had made it clear he hated everything Kurt was and wanted him to suffer for simply being himself. That boy had shoved him hard against the gym lockers and put his dirty, slobbery, too forceful too much – _no, get off _- mouth on Kurt's.

A wrecked sob tore through Kurt's chest, and as he settled into the driver's seat and started the engine of his Navigator his mind raced, and he realized he couldn't go home, not like this. His dad had always been able to tell when he was upset and something told Kurt he wouldn't be able to hide anything tonight. And that was one decision he'd already made. He couldn't tell anybody about this. The physical bullying, the name calling, maybe, but _this?_

Kurt was in over his head. There was only one person who could help, and Kurt had sworn he'd never talk to him again. But he also knew that he had no-one else to turn to.

So, instead of taking the Right-hand turn towards his home in the suburbs, he went in the opposite direction, toward the down town inner city apartment blocks in which Blaine Anderson lived.

Kurt hoped against hope that this was the right choice. Because God knows, he hadn't been making those today.

* * *

Smoke billowed from the purple bong as Puck coughed loudly, waving the thing around like he was a neanderthal with a club,

Blaine smirked and grabbed it before Puck could break anything.

_Ding Dong_

"Expecting someone?"

Blaine shook his head, running his hand through his thick black hair and making to stand up.

"Who is it?" Blaine asked through the heavy wooden door as he removed the towel from under the jam

"It- It's me. Kurt. Can you open the door, please?"

Blaine's heart twinged at the sound of that voice. _That voice_. The last time he'd heard it it had told him to more or less shove off for good, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to hear it again. He quickly made to open the door, and there standing before him was Kurt.

Gorgeous, always-put-together Kurt, in his black skinny jeans and designer shirt and blazer. Kurt with tear stained cheeks and a look of hurt and resignation in his blue eyes.

"Kurt? What are you doing here?" Blaine shot at him in a hushed voice, "what's wrong?"

"Can I come in? Please? I- I didn't know where else to-"

"Yeah, yeah of course come in, shit." Blaine moved back from the door and Kurt made his way inside, nose wrinkling at the potent smell.

"S-sorry. I wasn't expecting. Um. You. Wasn't expecting..." Blaine clumsily explained, and Kurt just turned on him with a look that pretty much told him his explanation was useless. Kurt knew all about Blaine's lifestyle, and there was really no use in acting like he was something else.

"Bro can I have the last - oh. Hey, Kurt." Puck came out from the kitchen with a bag of Cheetos in one hand, "what are you doing here?"

"Kurt just wanted to talk, Puck, why don't you head home-"

"No, really it's okay," Kurt interrupted, Blaine shot him a look,

"- head home and I'll see you later."

"No worries, laters Kurt," Puck grinned and grabbed his jacket before heading toward the door, "and I'm taking the Cheetos!" he yelled as he ran out the door.

* * *

Kurt stood awkwardly in the living room, if you could call a manky couch and old television a "living room", of Blaine's apartment, which smelled musky and kind of like three day old pizza. Blaine stood about two feet away from him, in his usual leather and denim, looking at him with both suspicion and concern. Kurt never really did know how to deal with it when Blaine looked at him like that. Like he mattered.

"Do ... Do you want to sit? Do you wanna drink? Um."

"No, no, I don't need anything, I just.." Kurt choked a little. He didn't quite know how to word it, now he was here. So he sat, and Blaine followed him, putting his arm around the back of couch,

"I just need someone to talk to. And I didn't know where else to go. No-one ... no-one else would get it. Or maybe they wouldn't even believe me. I don't know, I just, Blaine," it was then his voice started to shake,

"Hey- hey. Of course you can tell me anything," Blaine shuffled closer to him, brought his arm down a little firmer toward Kurt's shoulders, "Anything."

"He kissed me." Kurt breathed out,

"Wh-what? Who?"

"Karofsky. I - I tried to stand up to him, he's been giving me hell lately, and I just snapped, Blaine. So, after school when he shoved me into the lockers for the _fifth_ time today, I followed him, and called him out, and-and he..." Oh God. He didn't want to cry in front of Blaine. Stupid, stupid. Not now. "...he shoved me against the locker and k-kissed me and I ran and now I don't know what to do. Blaine. What - what do I do?"

He'd never felt so exposed. So vulnerable.

Blaine looked murderous. He breathed out through his nose, and ran his hand up and down Kurt's back, in what he supposed was a soothing notion, but Kurt could feel the calculation behind it, and knew Blaine was only ever quiet like this when he was having his dangerous thoughts. The ones that usually made Kurt mad at him.

"You don't need to do anything, Kurt. Karofsky, is that- that's a last name?" Blaine questioned, and Kurt knew this had been a mistake. He stood up abruptly, Blaine's hand falling to his side

"_God_ you - can't you just be here for me? I didn't come here for revenge, or to get him beat up, I just- I just wanted-"

"What, you expect me to believe that? Kurt, you know who I am. You know what I do. You think I'm just going to let this guy get away with hurting you? Sorry, no."

"Yes! He hurt me! He. Hurt. _Me_. And instead of being even halfway compassionate you're planning on doing something that will probably only make it worse and for once in your life could you just - could you just _listen_, without thinking about what to do next. Please, Blaine."

Blaine gulped down his anger, and looked at Kurt standing there, pleading with him,

"... Okay. Okay. Sit down, it's okay."

A sob broke through the tension in the room and Kurt fell onto the couch into Blaine's arms, who quickly pulled him into a hug, "shhh, shh, it's okay baby. It'll be okay. I'm here. I'm _here._"

"Thank you," Kurt sniffed, and Blaine sighed, because he knew he would never be able to deny this beautiful, strong, so, _so_ endearing boy anything.


	2. Part 1

Kurt met Blaine the beginning of his junior year at high school.

When Kurt's father had gotten re-married to Carole, Kurt had gained a tall, brooding, football playing step-brother, Finn, who was dealing with the drama of almost-being-a-baby-daddy-but-his-cheerleader-girlfriend-was-sleeping-with-his-best-friend-who-won't-see-said-girlfriend-and-is-now-dealing-drugs-for-a-notorious-street-gang-and-won't-talk-to-anyone.

And Kurt, being the dutiful step-brother (who may have been crushing on said step-brother in a thoroughly non-creepy way, in a, "you have great hair and you're really cute when you try" way), helped Finn out, who wanted to try and get his best friend to come back to school. Lord knows why. Finn said it was because Puck needed to be there for Quinn. Kurt realized it was more because Finn had no idea how to deal with a pregnant girlfriend who he couldn't dump because everyone thought the baby was his.

Drama, drama, drama.

Kurt secretly loved every minute of it. It was like his own private viewing of a really complicated reality T.V series.

So, one day, when Finn asked Kurt to accompany him to a party of said local street gang so he could confront Puck face to face, Kurt didn't protest as much as he really ought to have.

The music had been loud and the bass had shook through Kurt's core as he stepped over the threshold into a small apartment on the third floor of a block in the middle of down town Lima. It was packed head to toe with the kind of people Kurt would've pepper sprayed without delay in a dark alleyway. Finn had run off in search of Puck, and Kurt was kind of lingering near the door way, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Of course, that was a joke. Within five minutes, a boy about an inch shorter than Kurt, with olive brown skin, deep penetrative hazel eyes, and the thickest mess of dark hair Kurt had ever seen, dressed in torn denim and a baggy Lakers shirt, appeared at his side with a questioning, though not exactly intimidating, stare.

"Hey …" the boy started, his voice as attractive as his body, "I've never seen you before, you are?"

Um. Kurt didn't really know what to say. He was kind of just supposed to drive Finn here and keep look out. So, on the defensive, with a practised air of false bravado, Kurt retorted.

"I could ask you the same question, you know, and -" because the boy was cute, "I'm Kurt."

The boy let out an incredulous laugh, one that sounded deep in his throat,

"Well, Kurt. I'm Blaine. And this is my party." He smirked at Kurt's embarrassed expression, "So, are you here for supplies or to be supplied?"

Kurt's eyes widened and he forced his jaw to remain closed - because _holy shit_ that was Blaine Anderson. Infamous, 26 year old, street thug Blaine Anderson who was literally the scum of the earth who sold drugs to kids and who knows _what else_ and _holy shit_ did he just ask..?

"Oh, My God … no, um. I- I'm here with my brother, he's ah- he's friends with Puck? … I'm just his ride. I don't. I mean. Yeah. Just here for my brother." Kurt reiterated, feeling his cheeks spread with heat and fighting every nerve in his body that was telling him to _run, don't come back._

But Blaine just smiled at him calmly, took his arm and led him toward a hallway, moving expertly through the crowd.

"Wh-where are you taking me?" Kurt let himself be pulled along if only because, wow, cute boy - or, man, really.

"You should relax. And I just wanted to move somewhere more quiet. Too many people, you know, watching, out there."

Kurt didn't really know. Being who he was, in small-town Ohio, being watched was simply a part of life. He then realized, and thought bitterly that that was why Blaine had dragged him here. Because being seen with Kurt – probably - wasn't exactly the best for his reputation.

A flash of hurt rushed through him before he could tamper it down, hiding it and keeping his cool.

"So." Blaine started - God his eyes practically _shone_ with smug self-assuredness - "… did you want a drink? Or anyth-"

"No!" Kurt all but shouted over him, before coughing, clearing his throat, "I mean, um, no that's fine, I'm fine. I'm driving. But thanks…" he offered weakly.

"That's cool. Being responsible and all." Kurt couldn't tell if that was a joke, so he just nodded slightly, "So, you're here with your brother? Too scared to come alone, huh?"

Blaine was mocking him. Fuck, why was that sexy? It just made Kurt feel challenged. And he never could turn down a challenge.

"More like – he was the one too scared to come alone. Me? I would rather be at home watching re-runs of Say Yes To The Dress. But, brotherhood, and all …"

"You're cute," Blaine said, and Kurt felt his cheeks get hotter. Shit. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Sixteen -… Seventeen soon. Um why- why do you ask?"

Blaine shot him an almost suggestive smirk, "no reason, just wondering if I should be worried about you breaking curfew… You know, which I obviously should be. Daddy know you're out so late?"

The taunt was meant to embarrass him, ridicule him even, but Kurt didn't have it in him to care. It was obvious Blaine was messing with him, testing him … but what for, Kurt hadn't a clue.

"So what if he does or not?" he shot back.

Oh, God. Kurt cringed inwardly - could he sound like more of a teenager? Somebody shoot him, now.

Wait. No. Why did he even care? Why was he trying to impress this guy? This very obviously _straight_, very obviously _not for him_ guy?

"Hmmm. So you're okay with lying to daddy then. Good to know …"

"Wh-What?" Kurt spluttered out - where did that come from?

Blaine eyed him up and down, before leaning in to whisper, almost harshly, - "I won't tell if you won't," accompanied by a hand groping his ass with gentle pressure that - Oh My God that was Blaine. Blaine was touching his ass. Holy _shit_. Before Blaine leaned back, smirking at Kurt's shocked expression, _winked_, and walked off.

* * *

When Kurt arrived home that night, he found a card in his back pocket with Blaine's name and what he assumed was his cell on it. At first, Kurt was flattered … but when he started to think about it, he realized there was no way in hell Blaine could have written his number down during their conversation. So he had to have carried it around. What? For random encounters with gay teenage boys? What the hell? And -

_Ew_. Creepy.

Kurt rolled his eyes internally at this guy who obviously thought he had game, and laid it on his desk, deciding not to decide anything at that moment, and to get some sleep.

But as he closed his eyes, all he could remember was Blaine's face so close to his and a hand touching him, making him feel wanted. And, rationally, Kurt knew sexual harassment should never be confused with actual affection. But, wow. Blaine Anderson had felt him up. Kurt had never felt so simultaneously smug yet conflicted and unsure before.

So, Blaine was – not so straight – after all. Kurt knew without a doubt that Blaine was closeted though. C'mon – an openly gay gang leader in down town Lima, Ohio? Plus, Kurt had heard the stories around school. Blaine had never been – exactly _shy_ – with the ladies. So, if it was all some big secret, how come he'd been so forward with Kurt?

_Why?_

* * *

Weeks later, after Kurt had tossed the card into his bedside cabinet (not bringing himself to throw it in the trash where it really did belong), Kurt had received a call from Finn, asking him to pick him up from Blaine's. Apparently, on that night weeks earlier, instead of Finn convincing Puck to come back to school, Puck convinced Finn to spend more time with him outside of school. It was strange, confusing, but kind of_ nice_, that despite all the drama they were still best friends.

And Kurt was anything if not a dutiful brother. So, he went to Blaine's, feeling nervous and awkward and so, _so_ obvious. When had this even become a _thing? _When had this become a _crush?_

Blaine was standoff-ish, around his peers, but still managed to be discreetly flirty. Smirking at him, asking if he'd "been busy lately" – too busy to text – and winking at him when a girl sat on his lap and wrapped her skinny, overly fake tanned, _not Kurt's_, arm around him. It was infuriating. He was _jealous._

That night, Kurt finally texted Blaine.

"Hey.  
How are you?"

A minute later Kurt's phone was buzzing with a reply that made him realize he probably should have signed his text off with his name -

"Skip the pleasantries.  
Address, weight, cut or pure?"

Kurt's eyes nearly flew out his head, phone nearly slipping from his hands in his hurry to reply –

"No, no! It's Kurt... Finn's brother?"

And Blaine – with no sign that anything out of the regular had occurred – replied

"I'm good, thanks, doll face.  
Currently trying to detach the girl from earlier from my side, but apart from that.  
Nice jeans, earlier, btw. Very tight."

Kurt blushed, hurrying to reply whatever came into his head first before he lost his nerve, stomach swooping at Blaine's compliment. And pet name. Doll face should probably feel insulting, but …


	3. Part 2

A/N: Thanks to everyone reading! Some dialogue might be familiar this chapter ;) as always, I don't own anything...

* * *

Soon enough Kurt and Blaine were texting everyday, and Kurt knew so much about Blaine's everyday life that he was actually beginning to consider him a friend.

Albeit, a very sexually _forward - _and persistent about it -, friend.

Kurt didn't really know how to respond to "You feel like coming over later? It's not fair that I haven't seen that ass in weeks" … so he ignored it, until, "ok, I'm sorry, but it would be cool if you wanted to come over. No pressure or anything."

Kurt smiled at that one. In their weeks of texting, Kurt had figured out that after years of being overtly flirtatious with women so that that closet door remained firmly shut, Blaine had trouble asking for things he wanted, or needed, without being sexually explicit. Add to that that Kurt was pretty sure any relationship Blaine did have with men would have had to have been anonymous and a one-off.

Kurt's heart twinged at that. He knew what it was like to be alone. Even if it were for completely different reasons.

Maybe that was why, later that night, Kurt drove to Blaine's.

He had been shirtless and in sweatpants when he'd answered the door, holding a can of Bud Light, rolled joint tucked behind his ear. Kurt hadn't texted him beforehand, just hoped the invitation was still open. Kurt had felt like he was going to faint right there on the doorstep, almost dropping the poached pear tart (leftovers from dessert) he'd brought as an offering. Blaine ended up staying dressed that way all night, so relaxed in his own skin.

Kurt was mildly jealous of his confidence. And completely embarrassed at his own incoherence around a shirtless Blaine.

At about half past nine, they were settled on Blaine's couch with a plateful of pear tart each - Blaine appropriately grateful and complimentary when he discovered Kurt had made it - while they were amidst a fiery conversation about politics and the law and how arbitrary the terminology of "criminal" was, considering that even homosexuality was once criminal, among other things, when there was a knock on the door.

"Sorry, I better …" Blaine trailed off, shooting Kurt an apologetic glance as he went to the door, checking the peep hole before sighing heavily, opening it just wider than ajar. On the other side stood a giant of a man, with a handlebar moustache that would rival Hulk Hogan's. Kurt stood, moving to behind the partition that separated the living room and front door, hid himself from view, straining his ears but unable to pick up anything but serious sounding muttering. A few minutes later there was a loud slam that jolted Kurt from his wandering thoughts and Blaine entered the living room carrying a slim, black suitcase. Kurt gaped openly, feeling intrigued and out of his depth.

"Sorry about that. I've just got to put this away, alright, I'll be one minute." Blaine spoke unashamedly and Kurt knew whatever was in that suitcase had absolutely nothing to do with him but was most _certainly_ not legal.

What bothered him, really, was that it didn't bother him. Not really. He knew Blaine. He liked Blaine. And as far as he was concerned, the less he knew of Blaine's career the better.

With that thought in mind, when Blaine had settled back into his previous position on the couch, Kurt mustered up the courage to ask what had been plaguing him throughout their flirtatious text conversations the past few weeks.

"What are we doing here?" And, wow, that came out far more abrupt than intended – Kurt felt his face heat up, and caught his lip between his teeth before he could say anything more.

"You came over, Kurt, remember? You drove here all the way in your car." God, Blaine shot him the most ridiculously smug, shit-eating grin.

Thankfully, Kurt had grown used to Blaine's teasing by now.

"I meant … you and me. We text … you, you say these things that um. Make me think … that there's, more? I mean. Is it nothing? Am I supposed to think it's nothing?"

His voice hushed on 'nothing', because he knew he was in deeper than he should be. If it was, in fact, 'nothing', well … it would hurt. He didn't want this to be _nothing._

That was when Blaine reached over and grabbed the hand Kurt was waving around in nervousness, lowering it, smoothing his thumb over the back of it, sending shocks of electricity all the way up Kurt's spine. (That couldn't be normal. Normal people didn't _feel so much_, from so little). He stared intently at Kurt, as if trying to convey meaning without words. He sighed, dropped his eyes to look at their joined hands -

"It's – It's not nothing. To be honest, I don't know what it is." Blaine let out a brief nervous laugh. "I like you, Kurt. But that in and of itself is fucking- It's not right."

When Kurt tried to pull his hand back, at that, feeling fear of rejection coiling into his bones, Blaine tugged at it to hold him there, clarifying - "You're _ten years_ younger than me. And, and you're so _good,_ Kurt. For some reason, you never ask, but I know you _know_ what I do for a living, that I can't even really offer you anything you deserve because I'm trapped in this – in this lie."

Blaine swallowed back that bitter thought.

"But I'll be really clear, okay – I really, really care about you, Kurt. More than I ever would have imagined possible. And I just –I know you deserve better than me, but I'm selfish, and I want you. I want to be the first person you think of when you wake up, because that's already who you are to me. I want you to come to me when you need to talk, because for you to trust me would mean everything. I want you. And I want it all."

I want you.

I want you.

_I want you._

Kurt breathed. He didn't know what to say. There wasn't anything _to_ say. So he leant in, slowly, eyes on Blaine's, ducking his chin to be more at Blaine's height, and tentatively pressed his soft, pink lips to Blaine's chapped, tanned ones.

The effect was instant. Blaine shot his hand up to Kurt's neck, pressing him in, and when Kurt opened his mouth, Blaine slipped his tongue in, curling around Kurt's, grunting softly. He brought his hand not connected to Kurt's neck up to cup his cheek, which he stroked in a motion not unlike the one he'd made on Kurt's hand earlier.

Kurt couldn't think. He could barely feel his toes. There couldn't be a better feeling than this, than this man holding him and kissing him like he never wanted to stop. He tasted like beer and salt and warm spices and so, _so good._ Soon he felt himself being lowered onto his back, and as Blaine leant over him, their mouths disconnected and Kurt gasped for air.

Blaine was looking at him with what could only be described as reverence, "is this – is this okay?"

"Y-yeah. Uh-huh -" Kurt whispered back, afraid of breaking the moment if he spoke too loud,

"... Okay." And with that, Blaine hovered over him, and kissed him again. And again. And again. They kissed for what felt like minutes, but was really hours, until Kurt's lips were red and feeling the burn of overuse and he really, really had to get home.

* * *

That night, Blaine walked Kurt out to his car with his hand snuck in the back pocket of his jeans, making it hard for Kurt to walk but there was no_way_ he wanted Blaine to stop.

They kissed some more against the door of Kurt's Navigator, until Blaine pulled away, with a whisper,

"Good night, baby." And a peck to the cheek, and as he backed up, Kurt replied with a blush from the pet name, "G'night, Blaine." And got into his car hurriedly before he ran back up to Blaine's apartment, because that was what he really, really wanted to do.

His stomach was doing flip flops, his hair was all over the place, every inch of his body felt over sensitive and he had never, never been this happy. He drove home with a grin on his face, mind racing with the events of the night.

Lying in his bed that night though, Kurt realized that, dammit, he _still_ didn't know what him and Blaine _were_. He huffed, rolled over, and resigned himself to worry about that tomorrow. For now, there was the lingering taste of Blaine on his lips, like cinnamon and hops and bittersaltysweet.

Kurt fell asleep with a smile on his face, the lingering words, "I want you", mulling in his mind.


	4. Part 3

A/N: Thanks to those reviewing and reading!

* * *

Things carried on like that for a few weeks. Kurt would go to school, Blaine would text him, Kurt would come over after school, they would talk until it got too much and one of them pulled the other in for a kiss - which turned into an hour long make out session, which only ended until Kurt was sure to be late for his curfew.

Kurt never mentioned the word "boyfriend". He was afraid to. He knew Blaine liked him. Why wasn't that enough? Why were labels important? It's not like they could even really be boyfriends. Not with Blaine playing it straight for his criminal cronies, or with Kurt's dad, who would never in a million years condone his son's relationship with a 26 year old well-known drug dealer.

One evening, on Blaine's stained and too short couch, with Blaine on top of him and kissing him like he was starved for it, and, God, Kurt could feel Blaine's toned body wrapped around him, surrounding him, and he was so _hot._

Kurt pulled his head back,

"Hey, come back," Blaine pouted, leaning forward -

"C-can we um … take a breath? It's just, _God_."

Blaine shifted back hurriedly, "No, yeah, of course…," putting up his arms in a surrendering position - "Whatever you want, Kurt. Sorry if I- i moved too fast, shit."

Kurt felt instantly guilty; he didn't want Blaine to feel like he was responsible for Kurt's choices. He'd been making out with Blaine because he _wanted_ to.

"N-no it's not _that,_ It's just, It's really hot, you know like, stuffy in here, and kind of cramped on the couch …"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Well, um … we could always- there's my room?"

Kurt could feel how hot his cheeks were from the kissing and perspiration drawing on his skin and didn't even hesitate when he said -

"Okay. Yeah, yes." Blaine smiled, clutched his hand and dragged him down the hall to a room. It was dark, and cooler than the rest of the house, and Kurt was mostly just grateful for the change in temperature.

"It's – It's not much. I'm not- not really one for decorating or anything - …" Blaine's head was hung and shoulders hunched, as if prepared for Kurt to turn and leave.

"No. No! It's fine. You're fine," Kurt sent a reassuring smile toward him, because, yeah, Blaine was right – by Kurt's usual standards his room was really sub-par. But, Blaine was _nervous about showing him his room_, and how adorable was that? So Kurt moved toward the bed, with a new found confidence in his ability to affect Blaine, and pulled Blaine down on top of him to their previous positioning.

Kurt saw Blaine swallowing, and he looked at him _like that_ and Kurt couldn't help it, he surged his lips forward, capturing Blaine's in a not-so-innocent, all tongue and teeth I want you I want you - I want _you_ - kiss.

"Mmmmpf," Blaine puffed out, settling down atop Kurt, his elbows on either side of his head, chest to chest, and, the weight of him grounding Kurt and making his heart race. And _ohhhh_, fuck. Hips. On his. And- shit. That was.

Blaine was hard.

It was _right there._

"Fuck, Kurt." Blaine pulled back infinitesimally, his voice wrecked, and Kurt saw and felt how tense his whole body was – veins sticking out of his arms on either side of Kurt's head, broad shoulders braced with restraint under Kurt's hands.

He trailed his wet lips down Kurt's jaw line, peppering softly beneath his earlobe, biting and teasing his Adams apple and_ God that was perfect._

Kurt couldn't think, all he could feel was his heart race and the scorch of bitter and fiery arousal in the pit of his stomach, everything was so new, and suddenly the change of room had no bearing on the temperature because it was still _so hot._

He couldn't hold back the gasp when Blaine bit down with a grunt on his bottom lip, and Kurt's hips surged up involuntarily, meeting Blaine's thigh with perfect - but not quite _enough_ – friction.

Kurt's mind was white noise, everything was touchfeeltouch, his skin so oversensitive he felt he would come from being _breathed on_ in that moment -

"Oh My God, Blaine." He squeaked out from beneath him, rubbing with more force, trying to move but still half-stuck under Blaine's weight,

"Uh-huh, _shit_, baby – so good." Blaine breathed heavily into his mouth, rolling their tongues together, it was so _dirty -_

"I can't, fuck, can you do that again?"

Kurt was wriggling around, trying to get the friction he needed so desperately, needing moremore_more_. He probably looked crazed at this point. He _felt_ crazed.

"Look at me, Kurt." Blaine's voice was soft, but it somehow demanded his obedience.

He moved his eyes onto Blaine's, offering him the reassurance that this was okay, And – oh, fuck.

Blaine moved his hips. That was – that was Blaine's dick, moving against his, so hard and it felt so right, Blaine using his weight for leverage as he thrusted again and again, making Kurt cry out_ **yespleasemoreohmygod**,_ and Blaine didn't _stop_.

Kurt shut his eyes and tried to focus on something, anything, clutching onto Blaine's back, clawing and kneading into him, trying to find some grip, hips meeting every thrust of Blaine's,

And there was this white hot - ohmygod _amazing_ - feeling shooting up his spine that he didn't want to ever be over, not yet, not now - but God he was gonna- He couldn't -

He could hear Blaine breathing heavily over him, as he kissed his neck, jaw, lips, Kurt had never felt so turned on in his life – and then Blaine said,

"God, you have no – no idea -" his speech was staggered from exertion, and Kurt could feel his hot breath on his skin, "what you do to me. _Fuck_. Fucking perfect."

The speed of Blaine's hips increased, Kurt felt his body steadily moving up the mattress, he planted his feet down and started meeting Blaine's frantic thrusts again –

"Fuckfuck_fuck_ Kurt,"

"Don't stop, Oh God, don't-"

"This is all I can think about, you know, having you here, under me. God, you're so hot. D-do you know how many times I've woken up in this bed, fucking hard as hell, wishing you were here?_ Kurt_ -" Blaine was practically pounding Kurt into the mattress at this point, oh God this was so much more than just _frotting_, this was absolute pure fucking debauched dirty sinful _heaven._

The combination of Blaine's words, and the movement of his hips, and just, _everythingeverythingeverythi ng_, had finally brought it all crashing down. Kurt let out a high pitched moan that burst from his throat in a loud shout, as he felt his orgasm wrack through his entire body, sealing his eyes shut, hips stuttering, mind going quiet, feeling nothing but searing pleasure drip over every nerve ending in his body.

He didn't want to breathe or move or even acknowledge the pleasure for fear it would go away, as he felt his body slip into a state of relaxed exhausted-ness.

Soon, Blaine's movements stilled and he let out what could only be described as a whine, mouth dropping to Kurt's shoulder and breathing hotly, his hips stuttering and arms clenching, letting out breathy and deep moans right next to Kurt's ear -

"Christ, _Kurt._" And let his body weight crush fully onto Kurt, his arms giving out.

Wow.

They lay there for what felt like minutes, breathing heavily, Kurt processing what had just been the most erotic experience of his life, Blaine smiling contently as he looked about ready to nap -

"Um, Blaine? Sweetie?"

"Mmpf, yeah?"

"You- you're kind of crushing me-"

"Shit, sorry," he mumbled, and Blaine moved slightly to the right, still curled up with an arm, a leg and his head twisted atop Kurt's body. He snuffled quietly, eyes closed, and Kurt turned his head to look down at the man cuddling his side.

He looked so calm, relaxed, like this. Kurt knew Blaine didn't let on about the stress in his life, kept their conversations purposefully focused on Kurt, and every now and again, he would see the guilt in his eyes if Kurt mentioned anything about him being lonely at school or on the weekends – like last week, when he'd complained about not having a partner for duet week in Glee, and tough, take-no-shit Blaine had offered to sing with him, there, in the privacy of his apartment. He'd sung the first lines of Pink's 'perfect' and the two had giggled the entire way through the song – but Kurt had gotten his duet. Because of _Blaine_.

Kurt felt his heart skip. This man – rough around the edges, hiding from the world, feared by most he was close to – he'd completely overtaken Kurt's thoughts. And he'd just shared the most intimate experience he'd ever had with him. He couldn't – wouldn't – regret it. Because Kurt could read people. And he knew, _he knew_, there was more to Blaine than everyone saw.

Beneath the reputation and the parties, there was mundane life. And in that, Blaine was simple, sweet, caring. He saw things as black and white – right and wrong – which some would find conflicting to his reputation, but Kurt knew it fit perfectly. Kurt knew that Blaine would be loyal to anyone who offered him the benefit of the doubt, but didn't trust – truly trust – anyone's kindness, because he felt like it would always come with conditions.

Kurt was interrupted from his thoughts when a deep sigh came from beside him.

"Hey, you," Blaine said, lifting his index finger, bopping Kurt on the nose, who scrunched it up and giggled at Blaine's dopey smile.

"Hey to you too, sleepyhead."

"That was amazing, Kurt." Blaine said quietly. Earnestly, fixing his dark amber eyes on Kurt's blue ones. Kurt ducked his head, smiling -

"Yeah. Y-yeah. Amazing." And with a shift of his hips, Kurt grimaced, "except I kind of feel – really gross right now."

"Shit. Yeah, we didn't really plan that too well, huh… did you – do you want to borrow something? What time do you have to get home?"

Kurt lifted his head to glance at the small alarm clock on the bedside table – 10.45p.m. It was Friday, "I don't have to be home until 1."

Blaine smiled at that, "So, how about, you have first shower, I lay out some clothes for you to borrow, and then we watch some T.V until you inevitably have to leave me," earning a short laugh from Kurt -

"Sounds perfect," and Kurt leant down to kiss the exaggerated pout on Blaine's lips, brought on at the mention of Kurt leaving, before hopping up, smiling behind his shoulder, and heading towards the shower in Blaine's tiny bathroom.


	5. Part 4

An hour later, they were back on the couch, watching reruns of some generic trivia game show, Kurt lounging against Blaine's chest in a pair of too short for him worn in denim jeans borrowed from Blaine. He was also borrowing a pair of his boxers, but was trying really, _really_ hard not to think about that.

From behind him, Blaine was muttering the answers. Kurt smirked, trying to keep the laugh bubbling in his chest down. He'd been getting the answers right this whole time. Blaine had the weirdest knowledge of trivia. He was always willing to discuss politics or history or whatever Kurt brought up. It was – odd. Blaine was – he was really, _really_ intelligent. Kurt was curious, and something had been nagging at him. That combined with their newfound intimacy is probably what prompted Kurt's next move. He turned in Blaine's arms to face him, hand coming up to rest at his neck,

"Blaine?"

His head snapped from the T.V, "Yeah?"

"Why- why do you do what you do?" And, okay, Kurt had probably wanted to work up to that question a bit more – but the question had sort of bubbled up in him until he couldn't really be bothered with finesse.

"Do what, Kurt?" His thick, angular brows furrowed, eyes darting across Kurt's face.

"I mean. Drugs._ Selling drugs._ Why? You're – you're actually smart. Like, now, with the answers – and just your vocabulary is advanced enough to give it away, like. I just. I don't get it," his voice petered out at the expression on Blaine's face.

Kurt knew he'd overstepped. Blaine had immediately frozen, shifted back, eyes glazing over with anger. And worse, disappointment.

"Yeah, because everybody who has a not so legitimate lifestyle is doing it because their not 'smart' enough to be legitimate. That's nice, Kurt. Real nice of you. Not judgemental at all."

The vitriolic sarcasm dripped through his teeth, sending a bubble of hurt to Kurt's throat and a cold shiver up his spine. Kurt swallowed back his immediate response of _Well, duh._

He just – he wanted to understand.

"Then- I'm sorry, Blaine. I was just. Curious, I guess." He took a breath, shifted closer again, "And, I like you. You – you told me once you care about me. Well … I care about you too. And I just want to know why, Blaine. Why live a life you complain about so often – and don't pretend you don't, because you _do_-"

"It's not all about choice, Kurt."

At that, Kurt raised his eyebrow. "So, what's it about then?"

Blaine sighed heavily, reaching his hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

"C'mon – ok, so I was being judgemental. But if I'm wrong, well, then – tell me how. Why. Please, Blaine."

At Kurt's plea Blaine spoke with a nervous speed, giving up his story without giving away anything at all, really - …

"I got involved with the wrong people when I was your age. I-I needed money. Fast. The only way offering at the time was to sell. Things aren't as _simple_ as they seem in _High School_, Kurt."

"Don't patronize me, Blaine." Kurt let his voice rise. "Okay, so, I'm sorry I worded it the way I did, I'm _sorry_, but just – don't treat me like a stupid kid. I don't deserve that-"

Silence. Blaine shifted awkwardly, realizing he, too, had been irresponsible with his words -

"You're not- you're not stupid, Kurt, fuck. But, you've never seemed to care before, but now you all of a sudden do? Why? What do you want from me?"

Kurt gulped down his hurt. Blaine was lashing out, and Kurt realized his faux pas – he shouldn't have ever pretended to be okay with it. Now Blaine was suspicious of him – and that was the last thing Kurt wanted.

So, total honesty it was, then.

"I just wanted to know more about you, okay! I don't want anything but to_ know_ you, Blaine, is that so bad? I just shared one of the most intimate experiences of my life with you. You were my first kiss. I've never felt this way about anyone, yet I still feel like I have no idea who you are. Sometimes … sometimes there are glimpses. But I'm afraid you've been hiding so long that you no longer know how to show yourself. And it hurts, okay. Because _I want you_, too, but I can't have you. Not really. And I just – I guess I just wanted to at least know _why._"

Kurt felt then a drop on his hand, he looked down and realized he'd begun to cry. He closed his eyes, breathed in, and tried to regain some semblance of control. He'd just been _so_ brutally honest, all of the insecurity he'd felt at not being able to _be_ with Blaine pouring out, and God if it didn't terrify him.

Blaine opened his mouth, gulping around invisible words, and then closed it. His hand hovered awkwardly between the two until he brought it to rest on Kurt's. He breathed out, and looked up at Kurt,

"You're right. You- you deserve an explanation." He hung his head for a few beats, choosing his words – "I'm sorry I was defensive. And I – I trust you. I do, Kurt."

Catching the scepticism in Kurt's expression, Blaine moved closer, cupped Kurt's face with his warm callused hands, and all but whispered with conviction,

"I _do_. And I will do anything to prove that to you. I've trusted you from the _moment_ we met. You think I would've been so forward, so careless about flirting, with anyone that I didn't immediately trust?"

Kurt had always wondered about that. It had struck him as odd, a closeted guy being so forward with him – he'd always just assumed it was because he was very, very _non-threatening_ -

"It's you, Kurt. You made me – make me - want to risk everything. And I do mean everything. Because if my 'colleagues' ever knew – about, about me – well. Let's just say their not the most tolerant of people. And I need this money, Kurt. I know it's dirty. I know. But please, please don't judge me. The rest of the world, fine, but – not you."

Blaine had a way of being completely innocuous one moment, and earth-shatteringly profound in others. He could flip from teasing Kurt about his curfew to exposing his soul in a perfectly executed _melting Kurt's brain_speech like the one he just gave. It was like getting whiplash but realizing afterwards there were no scars, there was no fallout – and that was why he trusted Blaine. Though he was unpredictable, he was _stable._

Kurt gripped the collar of Blaine's shirt, shoving his mouth against Blaine's, who let out a gasp of breath before giving as good as he got, letting Kurt push him down onto the couch.

"Mmmmpf, Kurt- what?"

"Shhhh, I just wanna –"

And with that Kurt kissed Blaine, thrusting his tongue in to meet Blaine's, needing to feel some sort of physical connection, needing to know that they could argue but still do _this_, still be fine,

Blaine seemed to sense the desperation Kurt was feeling and let Kurt kiss him, gripping the back of his shirt, hands curling and uncurling.

Kurt felt himself growing hard in his borrowed jeans, and realizing they were headed for a repeat of earlier, he jolted backwards,

"Kurt?"

"We – we should slow down. Just – yeah."

"Okay, sure." Blaine sat up, ran his hand through his mussed hair, "You – mean, just, right now, right?"

"Yeah! Yes."

Blaine gave a small, slightly relieved looking smile, and Kurt heard his phone buzzing from his bag.

"Shit- I better-" He hurried to get his phone, but it was just a text from Mercedes about their latest Glee assignment and hanging out tomorrow. That could wait. It was, however, approaching midnight,

"I should probably get home – If I get back too close to curfew-"

"You'll owe your Dad an explanation. I know, Kurt." Blaine smiled softly,

"Maybe we could – finish our conversation, tomorrow?"

Blaine's face contorted minutely, "Um. Not tomorrow – I can't – I've got, this stupid party, and planning – It's pretty much all business, I promise," Blaine's smile looked more like a grimace to Kurt, but he pretended he didn't notice.

"Okay – well, just text me, please?"

"Of course, baby, of _course_," and with that he pulled Kurt into a hug, burying his nose into Kurt's neck, breathing him in.

"Don't want you to go." He admitted in a small voice,

"Ha, I know, but – I have to, Blaine."

Kurt kissed him, softly this time, lips dancing slowly together, just enjoying the feeling of being close. _Held_. Figuratively and literally.

As much as this evening had been amazing, Blaine also loved the moments like these. He'd never been able to experience this sort of affection before. It rocked him, to his core, made the rest of the world just feel – quiet. In this moment, it was him and Kurt.

He'd never once felt more secure.


	6. Part 5

A/N: Sorry update took a little longer, I wanted to get more of the story developed in my head before I turned out the next chapter. It's a little short but important for Blaine's character, at this point.

Love you all~ (and please review if you can)

* * *

Blaine awoke that Saturday morning with the residue of last night's happiness still washed over him. Which was good, because he'd need all the positivity he could get if he were to get through today.

He hated parties. While they were good for networking, and important to keep his sellers in the loop and feeling looked after, there were always girls. Girls who were usually just looking for a cheaper high by sleeping with the top supplier in town, but still. That made them even more persistent, if anything.

And, yeah, he slept with them, usually. When he was high on X having sex with _anything_ could be pleasurable. He always felt sick afterwards, though.

Things were different, now, with Kurt …

_Kurt_. Blaine rolled his face into his pillow, swearing he could make out the scent of Kurt's shampoo there, smiling to himself that that was even a _possibility._

He resolved to not worry about what might happen that night, and to just get through the day one step at a time. Rolling over, he checked his phone to find three new messages – voicemail from Puck – Blaine rolled his eyes, that boy was too eager, text from his brother – delete – and, Blaine grinned, a text from Kurt;

"Good morning, hope your day isn't too stressful. K xoxo"

He quickly replied – "Thankfully, I've got my own personal stress reliever (last night worked wonders, by the way) ;) xx"

He could imagine Kurt, probably sitting at breakfast with his family, blushing furiously at the mention of their night together. Blaine didn't think there was anything more adorable to exist in the world than when Kurt blushed – specifically when it was because of Blaine.

Sighing, Blaine sat up, clicking his neck and dialing the number to check his voicemail –

"Message received at 10:23 p.m. Yesterday. To listen, press 1-"

"Yo, dude, it's Puck – where are you man? I'm outside in the lot because I knocked for like 20 minutes. I know you're home, dude. I've got the money from today's sale – hey, is that - What's Kurt's car doing here? Is Finn here? The fuck, man, let me in when you get this."

The message ended with a beep.

Blaine felt his whole body shake. Bracing himself against his bed, he sunk back down onto the mattress, fear literally gripping his bones, he couldn't _breathe_ –

"FUCK," he threw his phone across the room.

He was breathing heavily as his mind raced – okay, okay – it's not so bad, right? He could – fuck if he could just think of some _excuse_. He'd call Puck … lie through his teeth, and Puck'd believe him because _why_ would he lie? And everything would be _okay_ it was going to be okay –

Holy shit no it wasn't what if he'd already worked it out what if what what _if_

With that he stood up and raced to pick up his phone, dialing Kurt's number.

"Hi! Blaine? Morning!" Kurt answered, sounding far too cheerful in Blaine's current state –

"Hey – have, have you heard anything from Finn or Puck? Like, have they asked you anything about last night?" Blaine tried to calm his tone, he didn't want to freak Kurt out, but it was pretty futile – he felt wound up and terrified.

"N-no? What do you mean, why? Are you alright – you – you sound …"

"Puck was here. Last night. While we were … um, together, he called me from the parking lot and he saw your car." Blaine rushed out his explanation, hand pulling at his hair, pacing the floor of his room.

"Oh."

"Yeah. _Oh_. Fuck, Kurt, this could be so bad."

"Ok, calm down. I doubt _Puck _of all people would figure this out – and even, even if he did … he's not – like, he's my brother's friend. He wouldn't-"

"He'd still _know_, Kurt, and that's bad enough, Christ."

Silence.

Shit – Blaine hadn't – meant it like that, but he could practically hear Kurt's mind turning, and they hadn't exactly had that conversation yet. About what they were, and what being in a hidden relationship meant …

"Kurt – don't, don't take it like that. I meant-"

"I understood perfectly what you meant, Blaine. And I can't deal with this right now – my friend will be here any second. So you – you just figure out what you need to. Talk to you later."

"W-wait!" - But Blaine was speaking to a dial tone. Fuck. How on earth had this situation just gotten _worse_?

He sighed, fists clenching at his side. He could either call Kurt back, or try and deal with Puck.

He chose the latter.

Shoving on his jeans and the first sweatshirt he could grab, getting his keys from the kitchen counter, he decided he'd pay Puck a little visit.

His knee bounced uncontrollably as he sat stewing in his car, watching Puck's front door, hunched next to the steering wheel, hood hiding his face from potentially curious neighbors. Blaine had a few options – wait outside until Puck came out by himself, catching him off guard – call him, tell him to come outside – or knock on the door himself.

Before he even knew he'd made a decision, he was dialing Puck's cell, chewing his nail anxiously.

"Hey, bro! I've been trying to get hold of you!"

"I'm outside. Meet me in my car." Blaine ordered, with the voice he only ever used when he wanted the threatening undertone to be understood, and hung up. He threw his phone on the dash, and started the car when he saw Puck jogging toward it, opening the passenger door –

"Hey – what's up, man?"

"Just get in. We're going for a drive."

Puck nodded, clicking his seatbelt in place as Blaine drove off, looking concerned – he really needed to work on his game face if he wanted in on this line of work. But that was for another time.

"Whatever you think you saw last night, you didn't. Do you understand?" Blaine voiced clearly, in a low, menacing tone –

" … You mean – Kurt's car? Dude, I called Finn but he wasn't at yours, and I know it was Kurt's because of the number plate. One time the football team stole it and we switched it with this car I stole – it was so funny bro-"

The car screeched to a halt, Blaine pulling up to the curb. He hurriedly got out of the car, walking over to open Puck's door –

"Get out."

"Wh-what?"

"I said get out, Puckerman, I asked you a simple question which you failed to answer. _Get. Out. Of. The. Car."_

Puck swallowed, and shakily stood up – all Blaine could do was think how ridiculous it was that this boy was considered tough by some; he was so _easy_.

As soon as Puck was standing, Blaine clenched his fist and tensed his arm, landing a swift jab to Puck's ribs,

"Fuck! Ah! What the hell, man?"

Another jab,

"I asked you if you understood." Blaine repeated his question from before.

Another jab,

"Now, _answer me_,"

Uppercut to his jaw,

Puck stumbled against the car, clutching his jaw and torso, glaring at Blaine, who was glaring right back, nostrils flared, fist red and raw, eyes ablaze –

"I- I understand."

"Good." Blaine straightened up, rolled his shoulders back, "Now, where's my money?"

Puck breathed out his nose, clearly relieved –

"It's – at home, dude."

"Okay. Well. We'll go back and get it, then, and you're going to help me set up for tonight." Blaine walked back to the driver's seat, seeming calmer, but body still tense like he was braced for another fight –

"Yeah, that's cool, bro. Sounds good." Puck answered with a forced casual tone – whatever had just happened was obviously something Blaine felt necessary to protect himself – and, Puck considered Blaine his bro, as well as the guy who was helping him out to earn some extra cash, so he decided to play it cool.

For now.


	7. Part 6

A/N : This is a big one ... for me ... please review, and thanks to everyone reading! xo

**PART 6**

**TW: Anxiety**

"What do you think, purple fitted blazer or orange vest?"

Kurt lifted his head, his body sprawled atop his bed while he helped Mercedes pick out an outfit for a family dinner she had tonight. She'd been at his place all day, which had been a marvelous distraction from Kurt's fight with Blaine.

"The blazer, definitely, it brings out the blue in your dress - but wear the vest on Monday, it's very cute."

She smiled, turning back toward Kurt's ensuite to get changed. Kurt sighed, letting his smile go, checking his phone. Nothing. _Still_.

He would not text Blaine first.

He was the one who so _ashamed_ of everything.

Kurt huffed, sat up, pulling at his own hair. Was he being too stubborn? Over sensitive?

No.

Yes.

Gah. This would be so much easier if he could actually talk to someone about this. And the only person that he could talk to was currently doing God knows what with God knows who –

Oh, God. Kurt hadn't even thought of that – he knew what Blaine's parties were like. What if, because they were fighting, Blaine found someone who - …

Kurt realized with a jolt that there was no way in hell he was letting that happen. Kurt Hummel did not settle. Maybe he _should_ contact Blaine first –

"Okay boo, I've gotta go. Thank you so much for today."

Mercedes came back, Kurt stood to give his friend a hug,

"That's fine, you are going to look _gorgeous_ tonight, and don't forget – vest on Monday."

"Sure thing, boy, see you then," with that she packed up her handbag and went to let herself out.

Kurt felt guilty. He could barely remember any of their conversation today, he'd been so consumed with thoughts of Blaine. He just hoped Mercedes hadn't noticed.

Sighing heavily, he rolled over to where his phone was on his bed, scrolling through his contacts until he got to Blaine's number. His thumb hovered over the dial button briefly, before sucking in a breath – along with his pride – and pressed down, albeit shakily.

He held the phone up to his ear, listening to it ring for a few minutes, hoping Blaine actually picked up because he didn't know if he would do this again –

"*cough* Hey, what's up?"

"… Blaine?"

"Ku- um, hey. Can you hold on a sec?"

Kurt heard rustling and talking in the background, as he assumed Blaine moved somewhere quiet. Had the party started early? It was only 6 O'clock.

"Sorry about that, babe, what's up?"

"Um. Do you – uh," Kurt stuttered. Blaine was being so casual about this – what the hell? " … this morning, what happened this morning?"

"Don't worry about that. I took care of it. Puck won't be bothering us."

His tone – it was so formal,

"Took care of it how? Don't you think we should you know … talk about this?"

"There's not much to talk about, Kurt. I'm sorry you were hurt, by what I said … but, you must understand …"

And, wow. I'm sorry you were hurt was most _certainly_ not _I'm sorry I was hurtful_.

Kurt sighed with the disappointment rolling through him, "This was a mistake," Kurt made to hang up the phone,

"Wait!"

"What? _Blaine_? Why are you being so weird and dismissive?"

"I-I'm not- I."

Kurt laughed at Blaine's stuttering, feeling sarcastic and entirely too cynical about this whole dating thing. "Yeah, you are, and what – I don't hear from you all day after we fight and you just want to act like nothing happened?"

At that moment, Kurt heard a door creak open, and a loud, obnoxious, feminine giggle broke through which made Kurt hold the phone a little farther from his ear - and then a muffled – "Blaine, what are you doing in here, come out and party with us!" "I'll be out in a minute Kaya-" then there was more rustling, and Kurt was getting increasingly pissed –

"Hi, whoever this is, Blaine's got to go now, so … bye!" And with a loud giggle, ignoring Blaine's "Wait, no!" in the background, the girl hung up.

Kurt - was _fuming_. His eyes bulged out his head, and he stood up to pace the floor. Fucking _bitch_. Who did she think she was?

… And why wasn't Blaine just calling him back?

He stared at his phone, willing it to ring again. He re-dialed. Voicemail.

Fucking _bitch,_ She must have turned it off.

Well, then. There was only one thing for it. Kurt would have to go to this party. He knew it might not be the best idea, with Puck … but Blaine had said not to worry about it. So, he'd get what he asked for.

He reviewed his outfit – Dark skinny jeans, tight grey Henley. He tilted his head to the mirror - it would do.

* * *

Half an hour later, Kurt found himself fighting through a crowd of people outside Blaine's apartment door, and the crowd didn't ease once inside. Kurt gulped, the air was smoky and putrid, the music was pounding through him, a fast dubstep beat that only those on mind-altering substances could enjoy, and he felt woozy. People were pushing him to and fro, and he shuffled through, trying to see for Blaine over all the heads.

He eventually broke through the crowd at what appeared to be a makeshift dance floor in Blaine's living room and – he'd found Blaine. Standing behind a short, brunette girl in a leopard print jumpsuit and zebra print ugg boots – _really_, ew - was Blaine. Beer in one hand, the girls hip in his other, while he ground behind her in time to the music. She leant back into him, resting her head on his shoulder, lifting up on her toes and pouting her lips toward Blaine -

As if sensing himself being watched, he looked up, only to meet Kurt's wide-eyed, horrified expression. Kurt turned, suddenly wanting to be as far from where he was as possible, trying to fight his way back toward the door, when he felt a hand tug forcefully on his arm, dragging him through the dozens of people toward Blaine's room –

He was roughly shoved inside, Blaine slamming the door behind them, a desperate look in his eyes,

"I can explain, Kurt-"

"Blaine, let me go!"

"No." Blaine stood in front of his bedroom door resolutely, a worried frown overtaking his features. "What are you even doing here?" his tone was – hard to decipher. Not for the first time, Kurt wished Blaine wasn't so good at controlling his emotions.

Crossing his arms defensively in front of him, Kurt hunched his shoulders,

"I-I needed to see you. We were in the middle of a conversation."

"I'm sorry about that, Kaya stole my phone, said she wouldn't give it back until I danced with her."

"That – that was the girl?" Kurt moved forward, like he almost wanted to go out there and give her a piece of his mind,

"She doesn't matter, Kurt. She doesn't." Blaine moved closer, putting his hands on Kurt's hips, "this is why I didn't want you here – you deserve better than seeing that – you know its all _bullshit_, right? That's not who I am."

Kurt felt himself choking up. He didn't know what to _believe_ anymore. Everything had happened so fast today, and he just –

"I feel like whenever- whenever we talk about things, it's on your terms." Kurt sniffled, knowing he was going to break down any minute, but needing to get this _out_, "the way you spoke to me today? Like I should feel unreasonable for wanting communication from you? Th- that's not fair, okay. It hurts. I felt – pushed away, insignificant -"

Blaine gulped, his eyes shining with remorse as he reached up to brush away a tear from Kurt's cheek.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head infinitesimally,

"Please don't take this the wrong way. Please. I just … I didn't want you knowing too much, in case I had to – _deal to Puck_ – with more force than I actually used."

"Y-You, wait, you beat him up?"

"Of course I did, Kurt, what, was I just going to let him question me?"

"You could _talk_ to him! Like a normal human being! Oh, my God," Kurt shifted back, frowning at Blaine with exasperation,

"This is hardly a normal situation, Kurt. I thought you – okay, you know what I do. How I deal with my business isn't up to you, okay. I am _truly_ sorry that I made you feel ignored today – that was, was never my intention. But this. This is my life, and if it bothers you …" his hands clenched at his sides, feeling overwhelmed with how much he _didn't mean_ that unspoken implication.

Kurt shook his head frantically, stepping forward once more, eyes welling up - again – "N-no! No, it – _yes_, violence … bothers me. But last night, you - asked me not to judge you. So, I won't. I won't-" at that, relieved, Blaine was the one to pull him in, meeting their lips together in a hard, fast, dirty kiss. Kurt hummed into his mouth, wrapping his arms around Blaine's shoulders –

"But if I ever catch you near that girl again…" Kurt warned, pulling back, meeting Blaine's eyes, who let out a short laugh, hanging his head,

"You really don't need to worry about that. Although, I do need to get my phone …"

"She seems a little nuts, you know, stealing your phone for a dance,"

Blaine grinned, "You have no idea."

At that moment, the door burst open,

"Bro, what do I do with the – Kurt?"

Both Kurt and Blaine stood there, gaping at Puck, who stood in the doorway with a bruised jaw and small bag of white powder in hand.

He looked from Kurt's face, to Blaine's, something dawning on him, and Blaine remained glued to the spot, paralysed, helpless.

Puck, feeling not for the first time that weekend completely suspicious and out of his depth, took in the sight of Kurt and felt his protective streak kick in -

"Why does Kurt look like he's been crying?" Looking about ready to kick Blaine's ass.

"I-I just – umm." Kurt tried to reply, but came up with nothing. Silence hung in the air, until he turned to see Blaine clutching at his chest in what looked like excruciating pain.

"Blaine, Oh my God, Blaine-"

"c-can't b-b-b-brea-" he took a gulp for air, arms waving out for something to hold onto,

Kurt grabbed onto him and moved him to sit on the end of the bed.

"Okay, I think you're having an anxiety attack, Blaine, I'm going to need you to hold onto my hand and squeeze it, can you do that?" Kurt kept his voice low, moving through his words in a calm manner,

Blaine nodded, reaching out to clutch at Kurt's extended hand.

"Good, that's so good, okay, now just lean forward slowly until your head is between your knees, can you do that sweetie? – Good, good, okay, now - deep breaths for me. You're okay, everything is okay -… you're safe." Kurt rubbed gently at Blaine's neck, wincing slightly at the pressure of Blaine squeezing his hand,

"Keep breathing, you're going to be fine, I'm here."

Soon, Blaine's breathing had calmed down to a more normal pace, but his whole body was shaking as if he had a fever.

"Dude, is he okay?" Puck finally moved forward.

"Just – stay where you are." Kurt snapped, feeling insanely defensive of Blaine right now, whipping his head back to level him with an expression of warning. Puck nodded, seeming to grasp the gravity of it all –

Blaine sighed, letting go of Kurt's hand and straightening his back, looking altogether worn down.

"Puck – why don't you, why don't you take a seat."

"Sure, dude, whatever you say."

Kurt shot a questioning glance at Blaine, who shook his head slightly, nodding next to him to tell Kurt to sit. So, Kurt sat on Blaine's bed, next to him, and they both turned to face Puck on the other side of Blaine –

"There are some things people don't know about me." Blaine exhaled, then took a deep breath in – "like, when I was 14, I -... came out." Puck's eyes widened,

"… Only to have my brother and his friends beat the crap out of me, and my parents kick me out of home-"

"Blaine - " Kurt had never even heard this before – Blaine didn't talk about himself -

"No, Kurt. I need to do this." He said evenly, still breathing loudly, "and, I won't bore you with the details, but things were rough for a while." He gulped, nostrils flaring infinitesimally, "This – my business – became the only way I could support myself. And as it grew, so did the amount of people under my watch. I needed respect. Control. Sadly, that's not really an option if you're g-… if you're …" He blinked, shook his head, "If you're _gay_. So … I had to, not be." He said quietly. There was so much depth behind that simple sentence – what hiding a fundamental part of who you are actually means for the way _you_ see yourself – just, laid bare. Kurt thought, he'd never met anyone so _brave._

Straightening his shoulders, exhaling, he turned to Puck, and said with a hushed menace in the back of his throat –

"And if this ever leaves this room - … If you breathe a _word_. I swear, I _will_ kill you."

Puck quickly shook his head, knowing firsthand how not empty Blaine's threats were – trying to diffuse some of the nervous tension in the room, he aimed for casual -

"Nah, dude … of course, it's safe with me." His eyes danced from Kurt to Blaine, "So … you two?"

Blaine gave a small smile, eyes shining with careful gratitude, lifting his hand to place it in Kurt's.

"Yes. We – We're together." He gave a small glance to Kurt, who was looking at him with awe.

Puck stood – he was good at being nonchalant when the situation called for it - "Well, I'll let you guys – oh. Um, … are you coming back to the party?"

Kurt shifted closer, murmured to Blaine, "Please stay here with me," eyes fixed on Blaine's –

"Nah. Kurt and I have some talking to do. But can you do me a favor? Kaya has my cell. Get it from her."

"Dude – on it. See ya, Kurt."

With that, he closed the door behind him. Blaine hurriedly got up, rushing to turn the lock at the door. Thinking, maybe Puck's eagerness to please wasn't actually a bad thing at all. He turned back around,

"Are you okay?"

Kurt let out a noise of incredulity,

"You're asking me if _I'm_ okay? Blaine- have you ever, told that – what you just told us – to anyone else before?"

He shook his head, looking like he'd just survived a tornado. Kurt sighed, his heart clenching –

"C'mere." He turned his head briefly, nodding toward the bed.

With that, they lay side by side on Blaine's bed, opposite one another, faces close enough for them to trade Eskimo kisses, but lips too far away –

"Thank you for trusting me."

"Thank you for being trustworthy." Blaine whispered, Kurt shifted closer, needing to feel that Blaine was safe, here, real.

Blaine traced his lips from Kurt's hairline to his jaw, taking deep breaths in and out. This was different from the intimacy from the night before – this wasn't frantic, pushed by desire. This was simply about needing to feel close – to have Kurt see his exposed wounds and say, hey, It's okay, you're still here. You're strong. You're … loved.

Kurt breathed into Blaine's neck, shifting uncomfortably in his clothes – Blaine, sensing the source of discomfort, brought his hands to the hem of Kurt's shirt – "this okay?" "mmhm" "okay," and after a few minutes they were free of restrictive clothing – kissing softly – Kurt in his undershirt and briefs and Blaine in his tight black boxers, lean, toned muscles of his stomach and chest tensing under Kurt's curious, wandering fingertips,

"Kurt, baby, if – if you keep that up, I'm not going to want to stop - …"

Kurt bit his lip to contain his smile, and a moan that was threatening to escape at the sudden rush of desire that shook him. Kurt tilted his head, trying to convey that … that wouldn't necessarily be, a problem – but Blaine shook his head, and replied to words unspoken, before Kurt could feel rejected –

"Not tonight. Not like this. I want you, of course I do, but I'm exhausted, and my house is full of people." He smirked, and Kurt giggled softly – it was sort of ridiculous, how they were practically hiding in Blaine's own home.

"Just go to sleep, doll face."

"You're not worried about the party?"

"Puck, Kevin and a few of my boys know what to do if I'm not around. It's fine,"

"Mmkay," Kurt snuffled into Blaine's hairline, wrapping an arm around his own torso and the other across Blaine's body. Blaine felt tension ripple then release in his body, the after shocks of his attack making him weary. He forced the blanket to move from beneath them to over them, rolling closer to Kurt,

"Goodnight, baby."

"G'night," Kurt planted a kiss on Blaine's nose, "love you,"

Blaine froze. But Kurt didn't seem to realize – he'd just –

Maybe he was just confused, he was half-asleep …

Bile rose in Blaine's throat at that. He _wanted_ him to have meant it.

Nobody had said those words to him in … well, going on over a decade, now.

He swallowed down this new bout of anxiety, altogether too tired and unwilling to wake Kurt to worry about it now. So, for just then, he shuffled closer to the boy in his arms and pretended like this was something that could last.


	8. Part 7

**PART 7**

The next morning, Kurt awoke to a head of black curls covering his face, and a warm, shirtless body pressed hot into his. The air felt heavy, as did his body, as he turned his head to face the alarm clock – 7 a.m.

Kurt swallowed – his father had been lenient about not questioning his absence from the house lately, if only because he knew Kurt was slightly uncomfortable sharing their home with two new people. He adored Carole, and Finn was a good guy, but – for so long, it'd just been him and his dad. After his Mom died, when he was eight, they'd learned to exist in each other's space, coming up with their own unspoken boundaries. So, having others around, after eight years of it just being the two of them – it was a change.

Given all that, however, his father would be far less lenient if he wakes up to find Kurt not home – panic rising in his chest, Kurt rolled over swiftly to grab his jeans from the ground, frowning, displeased at the way were tossed aside unfolded – and checked his phone.

**1 New Message**

"Hey, bro, I txtd Finn to say you were at this party with me, said there were some gay guys here and you wanted some tail (not exactly a lie – am I right?) anyway, he's covering for you. Ur welcome. "

Kurt's eyes widened the more he read – simultaneously relieved, yet horrified – Puck had been surprisingly helpful, for once. How had he even known … that boy was _far_ more thoughtful than he let on.

Blaine rolled over, nuzzling the empty space next to his head where Kurt had been, "Kurt?"

"'m here," Kurt mumbled sleepily, now he didn't have to worry, and rolled back toward Blaine and the warm space beside his body, resting his head on the area where Blaine's neck meets his shoulder – where it smells like musk and salt and boy. Breathing in, he sighed, perfectly content.

Blaine ducked his head, slightly, to whisper; "Morning, baby, sleep well?"

Kurt smiled softly, snuggling tighter, "uh-huh, I did, actually – and you?"

"Wonderfully. Thank you."

Kurt felt something like pure, unadulterated joy in his nerve endings – he'd never spent the night in anyone's arms before. As with everything he experienced for the first time with Blaine, he felt both exposed and protected all at once.

Blaine was tracing a finger along Kurt's arm, lips moving across the skin of his forehead, before moving down, down, down, until Kurt's lips were being pillowed by Blaine's, mouth open minutely, breath exhaling into each other's mouths –

Kurt let out the smallest of moans, pushing closer – Blaine, breathing deeply through his nose, sucked Kurt's tongue into his mouth, curling his hand into Kurt's hair, each of them trying to mold themselves to the other –

Kurt broke away, gasping – his cock was resting heavily between their two bodies, hard and seeking friction –

As they rolled together again to kiss, Kurt repeated the movements of his hands from last night, that had wound Blaine up – tracing the line of his hipbones, dancing along the waistband of his briefs, curling his fingers into the hair in a trail at the base of his belly.

Blaine arched his hips up, silently asking for more, dick hard and straining against his underwear.

Kurt tried to be subtle with his intention – moving his hand slowly, rubbing up the length of Blaine's hard on, squeezing gently,

It was hot beneath his palm; Kurt felt the heel of his hand catch on the head through the cotton, Blaine grunting softly, Kurt feeling a drop of sweat sliding down the curve of his own spine.

Blaine's kisses got dirtier, pulling Kurt's tongue into his mouth, suckling on it, thrusting his own into Kurt's mouth, licking the roof of his mouth, making Kurt's lips feel battered –

He broke free with a gasp, looking down at Blaine's face, hand moving faster now he could focus,

"Is this – this okay?"

Blaine hummed, but moved his hand to rest on Kurt's, guiding it faster, "Like this, baby," Blaine moved their hands so that Kurt's was now beneath his briefs, Blaine positioning Kurt's hand so it was wrapped around his dick.

Kurt swallowed, feeling anxious and unbelievably turned on, looking up at Blaine, who was staring at him – tentatively, Kurt began to move his hand up and down,

"F-faster,"

Kurt sped up, swiping his thumb over the head –

"_Fuck."_

Kurt wanted to make this good, he wanted to see Blaine come again – had it only been two days since the last time he'd seen that? But the angle was awkward, and his arm was beginning to cramp up –

"Shit – I-I can't – I'm sorry," Blaine opened his eyes, warm amber and cocoa piercing Kurt's, searching for the source of the problem, recognition glowing over them suddenly.

"K-kurt, fuck, baby – st-stop," Kurt immediately paused the movement of his hand, only for Blaine to roll him onto his back, leaning over him, and then start gently thrusting into the Kurt's fist.

All Kurt could see was Blaine, naked, thrusting toward him, dick shining with pre-cum, reddened and hot and he could _smell_ him,

Blaine was literally _fucking_ his hand.

Kurt gulped, letting out a whine, his untouched cock straining and feeling the need for release.

"_Fuck_. You make me so hard, baby." Blaine moans, mouth breathing hotly into Kurt's ear, tugging the lobe into his teeth.

Kurt felt his hips keen upwards, eyelids fluttering closed, and Blaine's hips collapsed onto Kurt's body, his dick now fucking against Kurt's stomach and into his fist,

"Oh, My God, Kurt – shit." He was panting, now, with every movement of Kurt's hand, with every thrust getting more and more frantic.

Suddenly, with a low, throaty moan from Blaine and a shocked with arousal high pitched hum from Kurt, Blaine was shooting hot, short spurts of come up Kurt's torso, and over his groin. It was too much – Kurt had never – he could feel tears welling in his eyes he was _so close_ –

Blaine's hand snuck between them, slipping it beneath Kurt's briefs, and without any warning or finesse, began pumping Kurt with just enough friction.

Soon, Kurt felt his pulse in his ears and his chest burn, and when Blaine whispered, "come for me, baby, I know you want to," into his ear, he did exactly that – spurting hot white come into his briefs, and all over Blaine's hand, and up his own stomach.

Their come was mingled together all over each other, both of them spent and in awe.

* * *

Waking up about half an hour later was not the most pleasant experience. Blaine could feel come dried on his torso and groin and knew that Kurt would be none too impressed. Gently, he rolled away, wincing at the clinging, tight feeling in his pubic hair.

He returned with a washcloth dampened by warm water to a still sleeping Kurt. Crawling over to him, he began dabbing at the lean, boyish stomach of the beautiful youth in his bed. Kurt sighed in his sleep at the sensation, and Blaine felt his heart swell – this was all he wanted. Just them. None of the outside noise, problems, drama. He wanted them to exist on their own plane, breathing in the other as if they were each other's life force.

Blaine knew, of course, that his dreams were an idealized version of _them_, that they each had flaws and lives outside of the other – that was far too obvious – it was just – sometimes – Kurt felt like the grounding force to his reality, but also to his dreams. He'd flung into Blaine's sphere like a whirlwind and shown him how it felt to truly connect to someone. Most people would look at their relationship – and, Blaine knew now, that that was what they had, a _relationship_ – and see their age difference, their different circumstances, and sometimes even conflicting values. What they wouldn't see, because it was invisible, but so very present – was the absoluteness with which Blaine knew he would never meet another person like Kurt, who made him feel like – like –

_Fuck._

He was in love, wasn't he? This beautiful, bewitching boy, who made him higher than any chemical substance ever could, was now the life and breath of his very soul.

As if sensing the ever pressing presence of Blaine's sudden revelation, Kurt blinked his eyes open, looking down at where Blaine was still dabbing somewhat unconsciously at his now clean body.

"Morning," Kurt smiled sweetly, blue eyes clouded with sleep.

Blaine whispered back; "Hi, gorgeous," before pushing up on his forearms so he could place a kiss right over Kurt's heart, "I have to clean up the house soon, but do you want anything for breakfast?"

Kurt pouted, shaking his head –"I-I should probably go home, soon - … Finn covered for me last night, thanks to Puck," Blaine raised his eyebrow at that – hmmm, maybe he'd start giving that boy a higher cut of the earnings – "but Finn isn't the _best_ at lying, so I should …"

Smiling, Blaine propped up to chastely kiss Kurt's bottom lip, pink and soft – "Okay. Well, will I see you tomorrow?"

"Maybe – I'll gage how things are at home first. Otherwise, Tuesday night, definitely."

Blaine nodded, rolling off the bed to grab a spare pair of briefs from his drawer, "Okay. Here you go – thought you might want - …"

Kurt blushed, but smiled gratefully, taking them from Blaine.

This was the second time Kurt'd worn something of Blaine's, and it made his insides feel like hot, sticky goo, rich with the knowledge of their secret. _Theirs._

* * *

Kurt arrived home to find his father had gone to work, Carole had gone shopping, and Finn was in the kitchen taking an entirely too large gulp of milk straight from the bottle.

"Hey, dude! How was the party?" _also_ looking entirely too enthusiastic about Kurt having gone to a party – he was so _weird._

"It was … fine. Fun. Not really my scene, but …"

"Right, right – that's cool. Hey, so, I told Burt you were staying at Quinn's – that she was feeling sick from the pregnancy but her parent's wouldn't let me stay so I asked you to go look after her."

Kurt's eyes widened – that lie was actually _good_.

"Thank you, Finn. So much."

"No sweat, bro."

Kurt smiled, briefly, really wanting to just be alone for a bit despite his gratitude, "Hey – I'm gonna go shower, so … I'll see you later," with a smile and a nod, Kurt headed to his room.


	9. Part 8

**A/N: There's a playlist for this story if you're interested it's on my profile :) review please it really helps me! xox**

**PART 8**

The next few weeks felt like a dream. Kurt saw Blaine almost every night, and they continued to fit inside each other's lives in the most subtle of ways, despite the time constraints and stresses of having to hide. Most nights, Kurt would lie on his stomach on Blaine's floor doing his homework while Blaine watched T.V (or had mysteriously covert conversations on his cell phone), and then they would kiss, and kiss, and kiss – and then probably kiss some more. And there was more touching, exploring one another. They never went … as far as they had that Sunday morning. As much as Kurt thought about it, _all the time_, he also knew … he was 16. And not ready, yet, for that sort of pressure.

And Blaine never pushed. Because every moment Kurt gave him was enough.

So, they went on like that, ignoring conversations of the future, both too focused on how much everything was _now._

It was perfect.

At school, Kurt took everything in stride – Rachel Berry, the school's very own ball of over indulged teen girl with a mission, would get another solo in Glee – that's okay, Kurt was fine. Football players would shove him into lockers, call him names. Kurt was_ fine_.

It was like … living in a daydream, only everybody else had sped up and he was just floating along. Of course, people begun to notice this strangely serene Kurt Hummel – Kurt who had the bitch face perfected along with comebacks that stung like salt in a wound – but Kurt shrugged their questions off. He was just … happy.

It's strange, isn't it, that life can continue on exactly the same, but the smallest of changes – like, meeting someone – can completely give you the strength to remember exactly why it is you struggle through it all – because with the bad, comes the good. And, Kurt knew, Blaine was most definitely the _good._

* * *

Kurt pulled into Blaine's parking lot, breathing evenly through his nose. _In, out. In, out_.

Today had been particularly draining. One of the bigger football players, David Karofsky, had been heavier handed in the hallway harassment than Kurt was used to recently. Kurt winced as he bent across his backseat to grab his schoolbag, feeling the way his muscles were jarred he knew there would be bruises.

It wasn't even the bullying that was the worst – it was that nobody seemed to blink when it was happening. He was being humiliated, and hurt, and not a single person seemed to care, or even notice, not really.

Resting his head on the back of the seat, Kurt tampered down his thoughts. He wanted to enjoy his time with Blaine, not think about the bad things. So, sucking in a breath, Kurt opened his door and set his feet on the pavement, hurrying upstairs to see his boyfriend.

* * *

Kurt was on top of Blaine, kissing his way down his jaw, Blaine breathing heavily and arching his back, hands wandering over Kurt's upper back, slipping beneath his shirt.

When Blaine's fingers dipped and squeezed, Kurt couldn't hold back the wince of pain. Blaine pulled back, gaze confused,

"Are you okay?"

Kurt shook his head, "Yeah, of course, why wouldn't I be," trying to brush it off, pushing forward for another kiss.

Blaine moaned, hands roaming once again, Kurt curling his tongue and biting and sucking at Blaine's soft lips, getting increasingly turned on when Blaine slipped his fingertips into the waistband of Kurt's briefs, teasing the skin there, making Kurt shiver with sensitivity. Kurt surged forward again, moaning into the kiss, as Blaine bunched Kurt's shirt up, pulling it off with ease. Kurt curled his hands in Blaine's t-shirt, pulling back to rip it off, whimpering softly at the sight of Blaine's toned and broad chest, scraping his nails through the dusting of thin black hair there.

Before Kurt could move to kiss Blaine again, Blaine was holding him back, making a questioning noise in the back of throat, gaze fixed intensely on Kurt's side –

"Kurt – wh- what happened?"

Kurt tried to cover it up with his arm, bending over to pick up his shirt, realizing that was a mistake when he heard Blaine's sharp intake of breath at the sight of Kurt's shoulders.

"N-nothing. It's nothing. Just, leave it, ok?"

"You wanna tell me why you're covered in bruises, Kurt?" Blaine's tone tight and sharp,

"I-I'm not _covered_, I'm just – clumsy - "

Blaine raised his eyebrow, moving closer and pausing Kurt's movements to put his shirt back on, fingers tracing over what must be a fresh bruise on Kurt's shoulder blade. Blaine gulped, "Kurt – who, who hurt you?"

Kurt sighed. "It's really not a big deal. Just … a few of the guys on the football team like to push me into lockers and stuff. They've been doing it for years, Blaine, I can handle it."

Blaine clenched his fist, face contorted in quiet rage.

"You shouldn't have to _handle it,_ Kurt. Isn't your brother on the football team?"

Kurt shrugged, "well, yeah, but he doesn't really seem … to _notice_."

"Have you told anyone?"

"I'm not the only one they pick on, okay, I don't need to tell anyone because everyone knows."

"You just said Finn doesn't notice, but then that everybody knows. You wanna explain that to me?"

Kurt huffed, realizing Blaine wouldn't understand – "He – he doesn't notice that I get it worse than the others. But he can't do much to stop it, anyway, so."

"Who are they?"

"Who are who?"

"The football players. What are their names?"

"No no no. You're not getting involved in my stupid high school stuff, Blaine. Don't worry about it, okay. I'm fine," Kurt leant in, brushing his lips at Blaine's temple, breathing him in.

"You're not fine, you're hurt." Blaine stared at him forlornly, leaning into Kurt's embrace, "and you're _my_ boyfriend – just, let me help? Please?"

"You _are_ helping, by being here. You take my mind off everything. Honestly, Blaine, it'll all blow over – can we _please_ forget about it for now?

Blaine sucked in a breath, looking resigned. "Promise you'll tell me if anything else happens?"

Kurt smiled, leaning in as he nodded, capturing Blaine's lips once again.

Blaine pulled back, staring at Kurt, "You know – I'd do, anything, to protect you. You know that, right?" tracing his hands up the valley of Kurt's spine, thumbs tracing gentle patterns over his ribs, making Kurt feel oversensitive and exposed, some of the arousal from before coming back.

"Uh-huh. I know, Blaine. You know – I'd. I'd do the same -"

Blaine smiled, pulling him back to their original position, Kurt resting his weight atop Blaine and leaning down to trace his lips over Blaine's, feeling guilty for lying – he knew he probably wouldn't tell Blaine if it happened again – but he didn't want Blaine involved. Not when he could make things – just that little bit more complicated. He knew Blaine was just trying to be a good boyfriend – but he could deal with his own problems.

So, instead of worrying about things that were out of his control, Kurt leant in, resolved to spend the rest of the evening kissing his gorgeous, over-protective, sweetheart of a boyfriend.

Life wasn't really that bad, after all.


	10. Part 9

**PART 9**

One Wednesday evening, in which Kurt had blown Blaine off for one night to spend some time with his Dad – who'd been pestering him for father-son time for weeks – Kurt and Burt arrived home from the mall to find three people in their living room. Finn, Puck … and Blaine.

Beer in hand, boot-clad feet on their coffee table, Blaine turned from his position on the couch to smirk a "Hey," at Kurt, before turning back to Finn and Puck. Ignoring Kurt's father completely.

Burt, well aware of who the man currently sitting with his teenage step-son and step-son's friend was, Lima was a relatively small town after all, had eyes wide as saucers and lips pursed tight. Turning his head, he leveled a stare at the man currently drinking his beer and sitting on _his_ spot on the couch.

"Can I ask what you're doing in my house, on my couch, drinking my beer?"

Kurt bit his lip – that was his Dad's 'I'm About To Kick Your Ass' tone. Crap. Why was Blaine being so rude? He leveled his own stare at his boyfriend, willing him to find his manners – wherever they were buried.

Blaine took a large, deliberate slurp from his beer can, head still turned away from Kurt and his father. "I was invited."

Finn finally spoke up – "He's a friend of Puck's, and we were just-"

"I don't care what you were 'just' doing." Burt pointed his finger at Finn, "Because this is my house, and I don't care who your friends are friends with because you're still not allowed to invite _known criminals_ into my house."

Kurt gulped – wow, his Dad had just, _said that_, and – fuck -

Blaine snorted –

"Something funny, is it?" Burt shot at Blaine.

Smiling like the devil himself, eyes burning with loathing, Blaine stood, gulping down the last of the beer before crushing the can in his hand and placing it on the coffee table. "Not at all, _sir_. Guess this _known criminal_ better be off though, huh?"

With that, Blaine shrugged on his leather jacket and stalked past the two Hummels still standing in shock behind the couch. He didn't even cast an eye at Kurt. Puck jumped up, then,

"Wait up, dude, you're my ride – Bye Kurt, Mr. Hummel," waving briefly as he rushed past.

Burt nodded, still glaring at the space in which Blaine had just left.

Kurt recognized his Dad was about to have a - … discussion, with Finn.

"I'll just …" Kurt waved his hand in the direction of the stairs, mind racing and blood coiling.

"Not so fast, Kurt." His Dad held a hand up to stop him, "You know this kid?" he gestured to where Blaine had been sitting.

Kurt blanked, "N-no – I mean, yeah, no." Kurt shook his head, probably a bit too frantically, nervous – his Dad had weird intuition about these sorts of things.

Burt Hummel raised his eyebrow, pushing his trucker cap from off his eyes, "Hmm. You just seemed … familiar, is all."

Finn looked between the two, looking like he was about to jump in and make the situation worse – so, before he could,

"just, I went to one of his parties with Puck once. It … it's not a big deal..."

His Dad's eyes told him nothing, face carefully emotionless. "You went to a party, at a man's house, whom I'm sure supplies half the teenagers in this town with illicit drugs? And when was this, when you were supposed to be at the library, mall, Mercedes' house?"

Oh, crap. He thought if he'd been half honest it would make things easier. But his Dad was so mad about just this.

"I- I never lied, it was just one of the times I didn't come home 'til just before curfew. I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't stay long – his parties are really boring."

Burt snorted. "Uh-huh. Okay, kid. This conversation isn't over, but you can go. I need to talk to Finn about some of our house rules."

Kurt's eyes flitted to Finn, who blanched. Shooting a sympathetic look his way, Kurt rushed down stairs, flopping on his bed face first, hugging his pillow close.

He was … mad. But, mainly, just really confused. He knew Blaine could be arrogant at times, but he was always so sweet, and thoughtful when they were together – and he was most definitely not that disrespectful. Something – something was _wrong._

Kurt loves his Dad. Burt had been his rock his entire life. And now – his boyfriend, acting like that toward his father?

All Kurt could think of was how when he and Blaine aren't a secret any more, how much more they're going to have to work for his father's blessing. If they ever got it at all.

Giving a frustrated sigh, Kurt jumped on his bed, staring at the digital clock sitting on his side table – Blaine should be home soon. And then he'd call. That boy had some explaining to do.

* * *

On the drive home, after dropping Puck at his place, Blaine remembered the shocked expression on Kurt's face, guilt creeping up his spine, before rolling his shoulders back, shaking his head. He couldn't afford to feel guilty. This was what he had to do. If he didn't act like that – if he didn't make people like Burt angry, afraid, disappointed, he would be giving up a fundamental part of himself – the part that swore to never respect anyone who didn't respect him first. More than that – he was just acting how he needed to for Puck and Finn to maintain the image they had of him in their head.

And, Blaine couldn't deny – that image was still a facet of himself. He didn't like people like Burt – the fatherly, authoritative types. So why would he be _nice_, now?

Kurt would understand. He had to.

When he arrived home, his cell was vibrating in his pocket – it was Kurt.

He drew in a preparatory breath, actually intrigued as to how Kurt was reacting right now,

"… Hey,"

"'Hey'? That's all you've got to say?" Kurt's voice was frantic - offbeat and forceful,

"What, no – '_I'm sorry but my body was swapped with a pre pubescent little punk of an alien but I'm back now so no need to worry that your boyfriend is actually the biggest dickhead on the face of the planet'_?"

Shit. He was really pissed.

"Baby, come _on_, don't be mad at me - …"

"Don't be mad at you? How would you like me to be Blaine, completely fine that you just ruined any and all chances of being in my father's good books _ever_? Not happening. _Fuck,"_ His voice shook.

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows, confused – he wasn't really concerned about Kurt's father's good books. Just Kurt's, really.

"That's not really a problem for me, doll, I'm not exactly his biggest fan either."

And … Blaine could practically feel the ice from Kurt's stare down the phone. But, shit, what was he supposed to do, lie?

Kurt answered – sounding choked up, making Blaine feel guilty once again – "W-well, I am. And you – you just," Kurt sniffed. He didn't continue.

"I just … what? Kurt?"

Sounding defeated, he all but mumbled back, "Nevermind. I – um. I'm gonna go, now. It's late. So … yeah. Night."

The line went dead. Blaine felt looming fear wash over him. They always talked it out – that was what was so great about them, they communicated. Or, so Blaine thought, but something – something really bad had just happened, but he couldn't quite figure out … he needed to see Kurt.

He called and called, but his phone was off. Knowing it'd be a bad idea to risk going to his house again, he figured he'd just talk to him tomorrow when he came over after school.

But Kurt didn't show.

That's when Blaine knew he had to do something. Their relationship thrived on conversation – not talking for a day was completely unheard of. It hurt like _hell,_ too.

* * *

The next morning, feeling fidgety and incredibly uncomfortable, he waited in the school parking lot in his car, hood covering his face, cigarette lit between his lips. After twenty minutes, he finally saw the black Navigator pull in, and Kurt – in his Navy scarf and crisp white shirt – stepped out.

Realizing he might cause a stir by being recognized but not really giving a shit at this point, Blaine bolted from his car to reach Kurt before he got indoors –

"Kurt!"

He whipped around, eyes widening, "Blaine? Wh-" he looked around himself, stepping closer, "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come over, last night, you're not answering my calls – can we at least talk about this?" Blaine hushed at him, nervous and tense.

Kurt – who had been planning on contacting him today anyway, after taking a day to cool off, nodded – "We – we could go to my place? It's empty-"

"Yes, Yeah. Sure. Okay – I'll, follow you in my car?" Blaine huffed a breath of relief.

Kurt nodded, before turning on his heel and abruptly waltzing to haul the door of his Navigator back open.

When they arrived at Kurt's, Blaine parked down the side street, and hunched over as he walked up to Kurt's house.

Standing in Kurt's living room, feeling awkward and small, Kurt bit his lip and tilted his head in the direction of the staircase near the living room, "C'mon-"

And Blaine followed him down, into a room that was purely and entirely Kurt. Broadway posters – classy drapes, and it smelled, well, it smelled like Kurt. Like – honey and lavender face cream and bitter, spicy cologne, with the slightest hint of sea salt. It was incredible. The scent shocked Blaine's senses, reminding him just how much he'd missed Kurt after just one night – or two, if he counted Wednesday.

"So – you've been avoiding me."

Kurt shrugged, looking down as Blaine moved closer and grabbed his hand.

"Not - well, yeah, but – I just didn't, really, know what to say …"

"Can't we just move on, baby? This doesn't have to be such a big deal, you know."

Kurt glared at him, mystified that Blaine was still minimizing this.

"You – you have no idea, do you?"

Blaine stared back, questioningly, eyebrows furrowed.

"I was just – I was hoping that when my Dad found out about us-"

"You - what?" Blaine put his hands out in front of him,

"…_when he finds out about us_, I was hoping … that he'd be understanding if he met you, got to know you, or something-" Kurt trailed off …

Blaine felt his heart clench. He brought his hand up to his eyes, wincing at the thoughts in his head, the ones that wanted him to agree with Kurt and make Blaine apologize.

"Kurt … he- he's not going to find out about us, so, it shouldn't be a problem."

"What do you mean, he's not going to find out? Am I just supposed to hide something this big from him for – what? For how long? A year? _Two_?"

Blaine sighed heavily, avoiding the question, making to sit on the edge of Kurt's bed –

"We – we never talked about telling anyone, Kurt, and suddenly you want your Dad, of all people, to know?"

Kurt's eyes widened, "Puck knows! And he was fine with it!"

"Kurt, that's Puck, he's hardly able to be an authority on whether or not you can see me. Unlike your father-"

"-which was why we needed him to be understanding, but then you had go and be a world class jerk and make him think the worst of you!"

"He thought the worst of me before I even did anything, Kurt,"

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do," Blaine snorted, kicking his feet at the rug.

Kurt crossed his arms over himself, needing to cry. Or scream. Or punch something. Why couldn't Blaine just understand? He needed him to at least _try-_

"Don't – don't do that, don't close off from me."

"Close off from _you_, Kurt, you're the one who ignored me – I didn't even know what exactly I did wrong – still don't, not really."

Kurt flailed his arms in exasperation, "you don't know? Blaine – that's bullshit. I just. I'm so - confused, right now. I thought – I thought that you wanted _me_."

Blaine's head whipped up, at that, "The fuck, Kurt? Of course I do-"

"If you wanted me, you would respect the people I love."

They were going round in circles, and Kurt felt – everything he'd tampered down, all of the questions, concerns he'd been too afraid to voice, they were bubbling up to the surface, he was so overwhelmed –

Blaine stood up, walking over to him,

"I don't – know what I can do. I can't change what happened, Kurt. Why are you blowing this out of proportion?"

"How – I can't even – how do you not realize how much this means to me?"

Blaine stepped closer, lowering his voice "_Why_, why does it mean so much?"

Kurt's voice rose, stepping back infinitesimally, "because I _love_ you, okay! I love you. And it kills me that - that you treat us like it's just a passing teenage phase of mine! Because newsflash, Blaine, I don't _do_ phases." he choked, tears spilling finally.

Blaine gaped, mouth opening and closing. He – didn't know how to respond. Of course, he'd heard it before – but this. This was conscious, real. He had the distinct urge to run. The larger part of him though, was screaming at him to say it back. But he couldn't, not when it meant – when it would mean -

Kurt's bottom lip was trembling, rejection and disappointment and gut wrenching pain tumbling through him, and he stepped away from Blaine, feeling cut open and raw.

"Baby -" his voice soft, cut off and gravelly. Blaine realized what he needed to do. He couldn't let Kurt continue with this, this delusion of their future together – Blaine was barely able to maintain friendships, with his lifestyle, and the reality of him not being able to give Kurt what he wants and _deserves_ was catching up with them. He needed Kurt to understand what exactly he was getting into before they went any further. So he said the one thing he knew would make Kurt stop and listen. " – you're just a kid. You don't know what you want, you don't love me, okay, you can't." The words tasted like poison on his tongue.

"Then what – what are we doing here? If that's what you think of me?" Kurt choked out.

Blaine sucked in a breath – it was killing him, saying what he knew he should mean, but feeling sick with the pain and disappointment rife on Kurt's face – lifting his hand up to scratch at his neck, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot, "We – we have fun, you know." Blaine shrugged with forced nonchalance.

"I-I'm just a bit of _fun_ for you? What, you seduce the high school kid then toss them when things get too tough? Was this just some _game_ to you?" Kurt's voice went up an octave, his face red and chest heaving.

"I'm not _tossing_ you, Kurt, God - why can't we just be like how we've been? Can't we just forget about this? Please. I don't want this to- to-" but the words died.

Blaine felt the air still and cloying, his skin feeling like it was stretched too tight over his bones. Trapped, and he'd felt like this before. He felt like this every damn day, in fact, trapped in a life he never wanted and a lie he never chose.

Kurt ducked his head, swallowing down the bubble in his throat, shaking his head, terrified of the words about to leave him, "no, we can't. I can't. I'm not that person – that person who can hide what their feeling, hide who they are. I- I love you Blaine. I know I do, no matter what you say – but I can't be with you like this. I think it'd be best if you -" he choked back a sob, barely managing to keep it together, "if you left. And if you didn't come back."

Blaine's stomach sank, palms sweating, "… _what_? No no no, Kurt, c'mon … this doesn't have to-"

"Just, go, Blaine!" Kurt yelled, shoving at Blaine's heavyset shoulders.

"N-no! Kurt- _please,_"

Kurt sighed a shuddery breath, pulling at his hair, exasperated and at his breaking point. "I can't – I can't live like this, any more, okay. I'm not going to ask again – so, please. Just go."

His words hung in the air, sinking in.

Resigned, Blaine swallowed, feeling like everything was just being ripped from him and knowing there was nothing he was willing to do to change it – he wasn't ready for what Kurt wanted.

He nodded, turning swiftly. When he reached the doorway, he looked back at Kurt – who had a hand clamped to his heart, face contorted from holding back tears, and Blaine felt like the _worst guy in the world_. He'd finally done it. He'd finally done something even his standards were repulsed by. He'd _lied through his teeth_ and broken the heart of the most moral, compassionate person he'd ever met.

He glanced at Kurt one last time, before hurrying from the house, the walls restricting, and his pulse in his ears too loud.


	11. Part 10

**PART 10**

Kurt made it through the next two weeks because_ he had to_. He had to pretend like life was going on as normal. But _nothing_ felt normal.

The fact Kurt was unable to properly grieve was the single thing simultaneously holding him together and ripping him apart. While every movement came with the memory of loss, it also came with the sense that he never really had anything to begin with.

School was a blur, days came and went, and life was fine.

Kurt was _fine_.

So, when he was accosted in the choir room post-(a perfectly average)-Glee practice by none other than Santana Lopez, he was caught so off guard he didn't quite know how to react.

"Okay, spill it Hummel. You've been acting weird for months. Who is he?"

Kurt, shocked by the loud voice, having thought he was alone, dropped the sheet music in his hands. "W-what _are_ you talking about, I haven't been -..."

The cheerleader crossed her arms across her chest, smirking, getting way too close for comfort – "You think I can't tell when someone's been getting laid? I thought, hey, good for Hummel. Lady lips deserves some lovin'. But now you've been moping for two weeks like someone peed on your Marc Jacobs. So, spill."

Kurt opened his mouth, then closed it. He knew he was gaping like a damned fish, and it was almost comical. Silence hung in the air. Kurt was at a loss to explain himself, too weary for on-the-spot excuses.

So, first Puck was weirdly understanding and thoughtful, and now Santana was, in her own way, concerned – Kurt had the urge to check over his shoulder or pinch himself.

"-… It's not really something I would want to talk about, even if I could, so – just leave it okay? It's over now. It doesn't matter," Kurt shrugged, cheeks burning.

"ohhh no no no, not so fast. Auntie 'Tana has broken heart-dar. I use it to feed on the souls of the weak. But for you, Hummel – I'll use my powers for good."

With that, Santana clutched at Kurt's arm, dragging him through the halls and to the parking lot –

"San- what- what are you doing?"

Santana shoved Kurt into the passenger seat of her car, slamming the door before waltzing to the driver's seat and speeding out of the school carpark. Kurt held onto the edges of his seat – what was with people just manhandling him oh my _God, _one of these days he was going to learn one of those martial arts where you could take people down with just a pinky finger.

Santana smirked, "Would you relax? I just wanted to go somewhere we could actually talk. And drink. I need alcohol, and from the look on your face at the mention of mystery man, you do too."

"… And where would that be?"

"Scandals."

"The gay bar? Eugh,_ no_, could you be any more tacky? Plus – I don't have I.D." Kurt smiled, happy he'd found a decent excuse to get out of this –

"You kidding? Nowhere cards before 7 p.m., come on." Santana rolled her eyes, turning up the stereo.

* * *

An hour later and two Appletini's down, and Kurt was spilling his heart out. It'd taken a hell of a lot of persuading, but at the end of the day – Kurt wanted to feel _free_. And, this being a gay bar, it was probably one of the safest places for him to let his guard down in Lima.

And, well, Appletini's turned out to be delicious.

"Woah woah woah – hold up. The legendary Blaine Anderson is a closeted back door man?"

"Oh my God, Santana, do you have to be so vulgar and offensive? And – it wasn't like that, okay?"

"You weren't tapping that? Well – of course he dumped you, precious. He's 26. What did you expect to do – cuddle him into loving you?"

Kurt, indignant and hurt, "I dumped _him_, actually."

Santana raised her eyebrow, and Kurt let everything out – how Blaine had been perfect and sweet, but only with him. How the differences in his personalities had given him whiplash. How he'd realized their relationship relied a bit too heavily on sacrifice. How Blaine was the most infuriating but lovable person in the world.

By the end of it, Santana draped her arm across Kurt's shoulders – "I'm sorry, Hummel. Your secret's safe with me. You ever need to talk, I'm here, 'kay?"

Kurt gave her a watery, grateful smile.

People are so unexpected, sometimes.

So, Kurt got through it. He had his time to grieve, he drunkenly cried all over Santana in a gay bar, of all places, of all people, and he grew stronger.

That didn't mean he didn't feel … hollow, at times. That he didn't have to force himself to delete Blaine's number so he wouldn't torture himself with thoughts of calling him. But Kurt was resilient, and he knew who he was. He got through it.

Across town, Blaine wasn't faring as well.

It had been two months since Kurt had ended things, and Blaine was at the end of his tether. With no-one to turn to, him and Puck had become good friends. Well, mostly they smoked weed and played Call of Duty, but it was nice not having to pretend he wasn't heartbroken in front of at least one person.

Without Kurt, though, Blaine had finally cracked. It was going to happen sooner or later, and he didn't know if Kurt had triggered his spiral downwards or if he'd postponed it for the few months they were together.

Blaine would often awake from a fitful sleep, drenched in his own sweat, shivering and terrified, shocked awake by memories of his mother's cold, unseeing stare as he left his childhood home. Memories of his brother's fist, bloodied and fierce, aiming right for his face as Blaine had curled against the ground, screaming for the world to just _stop._

He had to smoke a bowl each night just to tamper down the thoughts, his mind feeling clouded on his better days and all consuming on his worst. He'd been using more than selling lately, too, and most people were going elsewhere. Blaine was broke, stressed about paying rent and bills in his shithole apartment, grateful for the little savings he had from over the years.

Blaine spent his downtime from being virtually out of work examining himself, thinking back. He spent a lot of time thinking about Kurt, and how unfair he'd been on him. Those weren't the only memories, however, that had been haunting him.

He was a cut and dry sort of person. You either wanted something, or you didn't, in his books. His father had been the same. Except in his case, he either loved you, or he didn't. When it came to Blaine, he hadn't. It was Blaine's older brother, Cooper, who had been the loved son. The _only_ son, now.

It's not that his father had been _abusive_ – not physically, at least. It's just that Blaine had been unexpected – his mother was 36 when she had him, and his parents had been on the verge of divorce. Instead of bringing his family back together, like he was meant to when he'd been born, he'd simply highlighted all the ways in which his parents were unhappy. And Cooper, who had gotten constant attention prior to Blaine's birth, had always despised Blaine's presence, taking every opportunity to tear him down.

When Blaine was 13 going on 14, and all the other boys in his class were obsessed with girls and their newly developing bodies, Blaine realized he was missing something. Because he didn't want to hold hands and makeout with girls.

He did have a crush though - on Cooper's best friend.

Cooper attended a private boys' school, and his best friend Ryan was tall, blonde, widely built. He was cocky and arrogant and slept with countless women, and Blaine was in love.

Stupidly, with his hormone addled, young and naive brain, Blaine had confessed this at one of his brother's parties. His brother, being a private school boy, threw constant outrageously drug-fuelled parties, and that was how Blaine first learned the ins and outs of different substances, how to use them, and how much they were. One night, stoned out of his mind, Blaine had leaned against Ryan's shoulder, breathed him in, and whispered his secret.

It was like someone had snapped a thin wire that had been holding Blaine's life apart, and suddenly the entire thing became unravelled.

Ryan, disgusted and angry, punched him right in the nose, shoving him to the ground, kicking him repeatedly. At some point – Cooper had become aware of the situation. When hearing the reason for his little brother's beating – in front of all of his friends, a reputation to protect, he'd joined in. Enthusiastically.

It wasn't long after that night before his parents knew – and, the way his parents looked at him, he'd never forget. Like, he'd spent his entire life _trying_, but he'd finally, absolutely, _failed_ them.

At 14, his father gave him a grand, a bus ticket to the town over from Westerville, Ohio, and told him to get the hell out and never show his face again.

From then on, Blaine had fended for himself. Cold and alone, but somehow still clinging to life, he made a group of friends from his travels, picking up tricks on how to sneak food from mall food courts, the best places to crash on the streets. He was tough, and he had street smarts, despite his relatively wealthy upbringing.

Soon, his friends taught him new ways to make fast cash. He never felt bad about it – most of the people he sold the drugs to weren't _addicts_, anyway, he told himself. They were just bored teenagers and drop-kick adults, mostly. He didn't owe it to the world to have a moral compass, anyway.

But, because of his cut and dry nature, because he was so straight up – people gravitated toward him. They _wanted _to work for him, protect him from police detection. For the first time in Blaine's life, people respected him. Looked up to him. _Listened_ to him.

And he'd clung to it. For dear life.

But now, as he lay awake in his bed, too hot and feeling nauseous, he wondered if it wasn't time now to let go.

For the first time in forever, it was a possibility to him, at least. Sighing, Blaine rolled over, closing his eyes and trying to think of more pleasant things. As always – these thoughts turned to Kurt.

He fell asleep with the memory of crystal blue eyes shining up at him and soft pale skin beneath his hands.


	12. Part 11 - continuation from Prologue

**PART 11**

ONE MONTH LATER

_"What, you expect me to believe that? Kurt, you know who I am. You know what I do. You think I'm just going to let this guy get away with hurting you? Sorry, no."_

_"Yes! He hurt me! He. Hurt. Me. And instead of being even halfway compassionate you're planning on doing something that will probably only make it worse and for once in your life could you just - could you just listen, without thinking about what to do next. Please. Blaine,"_

_Blaine gulped down his anger, and looked at Kurt standing there, pleading with him, _

_"... Okay. Okay. Sit down, it's okay."_

_A sob broke through the tension in the room and Kurt fell onto the couch into Blaine's arms, who quickly pulled him into a hug, "shhh, shh, it's okay baby. It'll be okay. I'm here. I'm here,"_

_"Thank you," Kurt sniffed, and Blaine sighed, because he knew he would never be able to deny this beautiful, strong, so, so endearing boy anything._

* * *

Kurt breathed out through his nose, his body feeling weak and restless. Blaine had been repeating that sentence for over fifteen minutes now, like a mantra,

"It's okay baby, I'm here, everything will be okay," and Kurt thought back to a time when he had used those words to comfort Blaine. Everything was different now, though. They weren't together.

Then why was he still so comforting?

Kurt curled a little in Blaine's arms, leaning back to face Blaine –

"I'm sorry I - … just showed up, if I interrupted-" he waved his hand in the general direction of the purple bong on the coffee table, "you and Puck."

Blaine coughed, still rubbing his hand in gentle circles on Kurt's back, "Don't – don't even worry about that. You know you can come over any time. Any time."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, because, really?

"I- I mean, it, Kurt. Shit." He brought a hand to his eyes, as if trying to erase a bad memory from behind them, "I … know things ended, maybe badly, between us. But – I missed you. And I didn't want you to feel like – like just because we're not together that I'm not here, not here for you - … I just wish you would've come to me when this guy first started harassing you -"

Kurt gave a watery smile, feeling raw, "I – I know that. I just – couldn't see you. Not after … it hurt too much."

Blaine let out a shaky breath - ... he finally had a chance to say all that he'd wanted to over these past three months.

"Kurt - I am so sorry. I'm _sorry_. You didn't deserve _any_ of that – and I know that -"

"Blaine, stop. You don't need to explain. It's over, okay, so." Kurt shrugged his shoulder, looking downward.

Something flashed across Blaine's face at that – hurt. He shook his head, continuing - "No, I- I've gone over that day over and over in my mind. Everything I said, Kurt, it was a lie. Okay, I need you – I need you to listen, and _hear_ me."

He shifted back, putting enough space between them so they could face each other properly,

"_I love you_. I should have said it, God knows I felt it … I just - ..."

Kurt felt his eyes welling up, his heart speeding up again – he'd waited, so long, to hear those words, but -

"Blaine, y-you know, um. It wasn't _that_, that wasn't why we broke up."

Blaine's brows furrowed, confusion overtaking his features.

"We broke up because I felt like I couldn't deal with leading a double life any more. You – you're one person with me, and another with everybody else, and I started to feel like … like the end was inevitable, so why not … leave before things got, wor - um." Kurt cleared his throat, feeling the heat of shame in his lungs, "Worse."

Blaine moved his hands in front of him, holding them palm to palm as if in prayer, looking like Kurt had just kicked a puppy.

Kurt moved forward, to put his arm around him, but he shifted away –

"Blaine -"

"No. Don't – you're, you're right. You – you deserve so much more. God, and you come here looking for a friend and what do I do? Fucking _idiot_," Blaine's voice shook, running his hand over his face.

Kurt sighed. Blaine tended to take one thing and spiral it into another. He was shocked though, he'd never seen Blaine so self-deprecating.

"_Blaine_– that's not true, at all. I – I missed you, too, you know." Kurt spoke quietly, and Blaine looked up at that – Kurt added – "_Every day_ - … Blaine, it's been months, but I still came _here_ when I had nowhere else to go. Don't you understand?"

Kurt reached out for Blaine again, this time having his advance accepted, Blaine tucking his head to rest against Kurt's.

"I- I'm so sorry that guy hurt you, Kurt. I'm just -... so fucking_ sorry_."

Kurt shook his head, leaning forward to rest his forehead on Blaine's, lips brushing the bow of Blaine's top lip.

"S'not … not your fault. You don't need to protect me from the world."

Blaine smirked, eyes shining with hope and apprehension, "Yeah, I do."

Kurt laughed quietly, then finally, _finally_, leaned in to kiss him.

Blaine let out a moan into Kurt's mouth, who opened his mouth to slide his tongue inside, Kurt leaning his weight on Blaine, arms wrapped around each other like a cocoon. Kurt leaned back, only to press forward again, kissing Blaine with gentle force.

"Mmmpf, Ku-Kurt,"

He leaned back slightly for air, "Yeah?" Blaine shook his head, fighting the massive smile that was threatening to break out on his face -

"Just – Just missed you, _so much_, is all."

Kurt smiled, grabbing Blaine's neck, sucking his bottom lip into Kurt's mouth.

Blaine grasped Kurt's sides, pulling him in to a straddling position over Blaine's hips.

"M-missed you too. Missed this ..."

Kurt ground his hips down, wanting to feel as close to Blaine as possible – wanting him to kiss away the awful memory of that afternoon in the locker room with Karofsky.

All too suddenly, though, there was a loud knocking at the door.

Blaine pulled back with a groan –"The hell?"

"Who … who's that?" Kurt asked in a hushed voice, moving to Blaine's side.

"I… don't know. Jesus, is today the day of unexpected visitors or something." Kurt raised his eyebrow, "Not that you weren't a good surprise! D-despite the circumstances." Blaine smiled crookedly, leaning in for another kiss, "_definitely_ a good surprise …"

The knocking started again – "Blaine. It's Cooper. Let me in, please."

Blaine froze. He looked at the door, gaze dark and foreboding – moving Kurt off of his side he hastily stalked to the door, pulling it open with force, fists clenched and body drawn tight – like he was waiting for an onslaught.

"What are you doing here, Cooper?" Blaine demanded, wondering how on earth Cooper kept getting information about him – first his cell phone number, now his address?

"- … I can't come see my little bro?" Cooper smiled, but it faded when his words made Blaine cringe visibly.

"I'm busy. And in case you hadn't noticed, by how I've been avoiding your calls and texts, I'm not interested in anything you have to say, so." a=As Blaine shrugged and went to close the door in Cooper Anderson's face, he smacked his hand against the heavy wooden door, - "Wait. Please, just – hear me out. I promise it won't be long."

"I wasn't lying when I said I was busy, maybe if you weren't so self-centred - ..."

At that, Cooper looked up to see Kurt, who was sitting on the couch with an expression of bewilderment – and awe. Fuck, _no_, Blaine thought quickly, about the excited recognition in Kurt's eyes.

"Hi, I'm Cooper Anderson, Blaine's big brother." Cooper pushed past Blaine, shoving his hand in front of Kurt to shake – who grasped it immediately, standing up and gushing, "I-I'm Kurt! I'm a huge fan of your commercials! The jingle used to be my ringtone -" Kurt _giggled_.

_Fuck_, no.

Blaine cleared his throat, coming to stand between the two.

"This your boyfriend, Blaine?" Cooper smiled widely.

"Why, Coop, you gonna beat him up too if I say yes?"

The air went sour. Cooper's face went from arrogant self-assuredness to crestfallen in a millisecond, and Kurt – he just looked caught in the middle, eyes glancing from Cooper to Blaine, trying to make the connection between the man he'd had a crush on for a year – the most good looking commercial actor he'd ever laid eyes on – and the man whom Blaine had confessed had beaten him to a pulp for being gay.

It just – didn't make any sense to him.

"_Blaine_ -" Cooper's voice was shaky, his hand reaching out.

"No. You don't _get_ to feel guilty, I don't need your guilt."

Kurt sat down, feeling overwhelmed, and the other two men in the room followed suit, each wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"I – I just want to help you. Somehow. You know I have the money, and you deserve so much more than all of this crap, Blaine."

"So you can assuage your own shame? So you can feel like a better person? I'm not your fucking pet project. I'm doing just fine."

"It's - It's not about that – Blaine – you can't keep living like this. You'll end up in prison, or dead. You need some kind of stability at least. I can help you with that, just - _please. _Let me."

Blaine stood up again, the tension in his limbs too tight to let him sit still. "You didn't care so much about_ either_ of those things when you outed me to Mom and Dad. Or, when you were beating me within an inch of my life. I said no before, and I'm saying it again. So, if that's all you came here for, I think it's time you left." Blaine levelled him with a glare that made even Kurt afraid to speak up.

Cooper sighed heavily, shaking his head –"_Okay_. But – you have my number. Just. Think about it, please." He turned his head, smiling again, too wide, "Nice to meet you, Kurt, hopefully ... I'll see you again."

Kurt nodded jerkily, not knowing how to react to this man now,"Y-yeah. Umm." His eyes flitted to Blaine, "– Goodbye."

Blaine scowled at his brother's departing figure, hands shaking, beginning to pace the floor.

"Blaine." Kurt stood, walking over to him, trying to pause his frantic movements.

Blaine flailed his arms, voice beginning with a shout, "I can't_ believe_ him! How dare he? That patronizing – fucking holier than thou – _asshole._"

Kurt swallowed, biting his lip "… So, he's offered you money before?"

"Try every year since he moved back to Ohio from L.A where he got mildly famous for doing those stupid fucking commercials. Blames himself for his 'poor, lost brother' – thinks I even need, _want_ his help. _Prick._" His tone was vitriolic – it was like – he couldn't see a brother trying to make amends. All he could see was a man who had hurt him and abandoned him. Kurt twisted his hands together, trying to phrase his words – appropriately.

"But … Blaine. Wasn't money why you started ... – what if -"

Blaine whipped his head up, crossing his arms over himself petulantly, face contorted with unbridled rage and betrayal "- Oh, I see. So because my hot shot actor of a brother _who you have a crush on don't even try and deny it_ suggests it, it's a great idea to you? I should just – forgive him? Or, what?"

"I didn't say you should forgive him, Blaine, God. But you have to admit. He was right. How long are you planning on living like this?" Kurt gestured to the bong on the table.

Blaine swallowed, chest heaving – because this wasn't the first time this had been an issue for him and Kurt, and the last time hadn't exactly ended well. Except now there was this added complication of Cooper.

"That's – not the point, Kurt. Could you do it? What if – what if you were in my shoes?"

Kurt sighed, Blaine had a point, but – Kurt stepped forward, placing his gaze steady on Blaine's – "I know it's not easy, baby. You have every right to feel how you do. But, at some point, Blaine, you're going to realize that – some things are more important than pride."

Blaine scoffed, "Like what, being rich? Guess you're involved with the wrong brother, huh?"

Kurt stood back, looking like he'd just been slapped – "Fucking hell, Blaine. _Would you stop?"_

He hung his head forward, rolling his shoulders back, feeling instantly regretful – "S-sorry. I'm just." He reached his hands up to scrub them over his eyes, "I'm _jealous_, that you're actually attracted to my brother of all people, and I'm also _really_ pissed off about that because he's – he's an asshole and _I _love you -_"_

"Woah, woah, woah. Blaine. _Stop_. Okay, this has nothing to do with that. _Did_ I have a silly crush on him, the pretty face on T.V? Yes." Blaine gave a small smile at the past tense in that sentence, "- But, Blaine – if he's offering you enough money so that you can go legitimate. If you can start over – then – can you please just, take a minute, and think about what that would mean for _us_?" Kurt moved even closer, wrapping his hands around Blaine's warm neck, "And I know I'm being selfish, asking you to consider something that you're so against – but. Please. Because, I can't be with you like we were before, not forever, but I also ... can't be without you. Not again."

Blaine looked up at him, face twisted in pain and anger, eyes pleading with Kurt to not make him do this. He must have seen something there, though. Something that made it all seem possible.

"I- … I'll, um. Think about it." Blaine mumbled almost incoherently, eyes cast downward as he spoke.

Kurt smiled broadly, leaning in to hug him, whispering in his ear.

"Thank you,_ thank_ you. That's all I ask. I love you. Love you. _So much_, Blaine."

Blaine broke down. Clutching at Kurt's back, tears began to fall from his eyes, face buried against Kurt, body quivering with relief.


	13. Part 12

**PART 12**

The sky was getting darker when Blaine walked Kurt out to his car, their hands intertwined and timid smiles gracing each of their faces whenever they caught a glimpse of the others' eyes.

Blaine pushed Kurt against his car door, pressing them chest to chest, leaning his forehead on Kurt's. "So - …" Blaine took a deep breath, tracing his thumb over the back of Kurt's hand in a familiar motion, "What – what does this mean for us?"

Blaine spoke quietly. He was so, _so_ hopeful – and that terrified him. Kurt pursed his lips, thinking, as he brushed his nose against Blaine's, happy to just feel this intimacy again.

Kurt gulped down a breath, speaking softly. "I c-can't go back to - … to how we were. I – I don't mean that we have to go public – and I'm not forcing you to come out, _at all,_ okay. I just. I can't handle the wondering, the uncertainty – I need to know you're in this with me. That if I talk about a future for us – that you're not going to blow me off, _again_." Kurt choked on the memory, his words becoming slightly jumbled around the water in his throat.

Blaine felt something settle in his chest because there was no way, _no way_, he was letting Kurt go again.

Blaine was nodding before he'd even made the decision to, "I know – I know Kurt, I'm - _so fucking _sorry, baby."

Kurt shook his head – "I know you are. I do. But – I'm – I'm _young_. And I finish High School in a year. I want … I want to still be with you when that happens -… so." Kurt drew in a breath, knowing he needed to trust Blaine enough now to not freak out – "I need you to commit to me… and I need to know that you're not going to trap me in your lie, too. I can't hide away like that, Blaine. I just_ -… I can't."_

Blaine's heart sped up in his chest, the grip he had on Kurt's hand becoming unyielding, stiff. This was something he loved about Kurt, though – he knew what he wanted, and he knew his own worth. It was refreshing, and – so, so beautiful. Blaine sucked in his own breath, swallowing his fears. It was time for him to make some changes, after all. "I – … I promise you, Kurt. _I promise you_. I will find a way out. You are the most important person in my life. I_ love_ you, with everything that I am. You never need to doubt that again, okay? Never."

Blaine spoke with heavy conviction, at a steady pace, at an even volume. Nothing was going to be simple, but his love for Kurt was. His desire to _be more _for Kurt was the most simple, honest thing he'd felt in over a decade.

Kurt surged forward, kissing him with everything he had, tangling his long, nimble fingers in Blaine's dark curls, moaning quietly. When he stepped back, Kurt smiled, mouthed, "I love you", once more into Blaine's open mouth, and got into his car.

On the ride home, Kurt's thoughts were consumed with promise, his stomach wild with anticipation and careful surety. But, when he settled into bed that night, the dread set in. Because tomorrow, he had to see Karofsky. Everything had taken such a drastic turn at Blaine's that after initially having his distress relieved by Blaine's comforting hold and words, he had been too distracted to worry. But now … now worrying was all he was doing.

The next day, all of Kurt's fears were confirmed as valid.

Karofsky had shoved him heavily into his locker, hard enough for Kurt's face to collide with the sharp metal of his open lock, threatening him in a low, menacing, hateful voice - "If you tell anyone, I'll _kill you_."

Kurt's heart had stopped. The kids walking the halls seemed to slow down, and Kurt saw it, beneath his eyelids, as if it was already happening. He saw Karofsky, beating him out by the dumpsters – beating him without mercy, without regard. He knew those threats – he knew they were common, and often not meant. But it didn't matter. Kurt also knew what it meant to be gay and out in a small town. The threat was_ real_, for Kurt, and he was so past terrified.

That afternoon, Kurt told Blaine. He had to. He couldn't … hold it all in. He could barely function all day, his body was so hyper alert.

"He said he'd _what_?!" Blaine all but shouted, fists clenching at his sides as he stood, eyes wide and jaw tightening – "I'll fucking kill _him_, the fucking piece of shit, he's _dead_." Blaine spat out, having never uttered a threat more serious in his life.

Kurt shook his head – "B-Blaine you can't – you can't do anything -"

"Like hell I can't, Kurt. He's going to regret the day he was born, I _swear_ to you -"

"No!" Kurt shouted over Blaine's ramblings, placing a calming hand on Blaine's chest. "If you get involved – you – you could get in trouble, Blaine. He may be an asshole, but he's still a kid under law. What would it look like, if you beat him up?"

"I don't give a fucking _shit _about me, Kurt, he's not hurting you again." Blaine choked out, face red and eyes rimmed with unshed tears.

And Kurt – who had always considered himself a pacifist, who was anti-Blaine fighting in any way – couldn't help but imagine it. Imagine Blaine inflicting physical harm upon Karofsky. And, just for a second, he felt a sense of poetic justice course through him. But it was gone as soon as it came, and he breathed out. Because what – what would it really achieve? Karofsky was still human. Still a _person._ Nobody deserved to have that taken from them, no matter their prior actions.

Kurt hung his head, and spoke softly, realizing what he needed to do – what he _should_ do.

"I think - … I think I need to tell my Dad."

Blaine's eyes widened, jaw going slack. "You think … you really think that will help?"

Kurt shrugged, but nodded – "I've always relied on him. I didn't want to tell him – tell him about the kiss – and maybe I won't, I just. I can't be okay with you hurting someone for me, Blaine. No matter how justified you think it is. It'd – it'd destroy me." Kurt looked at Blaine with those pleading baby blues and Blaine was reminded of how little choice he had when Kurt looked at him like that.

Blaine clenched his jaw, swallowed his pride – and brought Kurt's body in close, rubbing circles into his lower back.

"O-Okay. You - you do what you need to do, baby. It's up to you, always. But – if _anything else_ - …"

Kurt nodded, breathing in the calming scent of Blaine, suddenly needing to feel the physical comfort of Blaine more than the emotional comfort.

"C-can we go to your room?"

Kurt traced his fingers in little patterns over Blaine's ribs, brushing his lips over his neck, and Blaine pulled him in for a hot, searing kiss. They walked backwards, unwilling to detach their lips from each other. They hadn't had a chance to get reacquainted last night, and after three long months, Kurt was desperate to feel warm skin against his again – to have Blaine so close, again.

Walking into the doorway and giggling against each other's lips, they stripped their shirts off one another with quick movements, and Blaine's hands fumbled with Kurt's belt, but moved to palming his dick through Kurt's tight denim jeans.

They fell to the soft mattress on Blaine's bed in tandem, narrowly avoiding a collision of their heads, moaning as they settled beside one another, lips moving frenzied together, hips subconsciously moving forward, seeking.

When their lips were raw and necks strained, they broke apart, gasping for air.

Kurt rolled his body, half-lying across Blaine. Softly, he spoke - "Can I, um, ask you something?"

"Mmm?"

"How many – um. How many people have you, _been_ with?"

Blaine stuttered, his hands tensing at Kurt's back, watching Kurt's face carefully. Shifting to his elbows, "… I, uh – I don't really … know."

Kurt's eyes widened, imagination running wild. Swallowing audibly, he felt heat rise on his cheeks.

Biting his lip, Blaine tried to explain, "It's not – like – um. I've, uh, never." He paused, shaking his head.

"… You've never, what?"

Breathing in deeply, embarrassed and self-conscious, Blaine went on, "I've never … been with another guy. You're … you're the first." Exhaling, he let his head fall to the pillow, eyes staring unseeing at the ceiling. If he'd have looked down, he would have seen the shocked expression in Kurt's eyes, and the small smile creeping onto his face.

"R-_Really_?"

"You don't need to sound so shocked, Kurt. It's not like … like I could -…"

"… oh."

Blaine rolled to his side, finding himself nose to nose with Kurt, wrapping his arms across his lower back, fingers tingling with the heat from the skin beneath them.

"How come, um. Why do you ask?"

It was Kurt's turn to be embarrassed, eyes flitting downward.

"I…just. I was curious." Kurt twisted his fingers across Blaine's arm, dancing them along his body in a rhythm-less motion.

"Curious?" Blaine raised an eyebrow.

Kurt huffed, knowing he couldn't get out of this now. He rotated his neck, facing the ceiling as he spoke – "I may have … been driving myself crazy, thinking … um. Ever since, you, uh, you gave me your number, that first night? I guess I just … I thought … it was something you did often."

Blaine let out an incredulous laugh, choking on it. "Oh my God, _Kurt_. You thought – wow. I … have those cards for business. You know -… simple, discreet. Trust me – I have, _never,_ done that before."

Kurt whipped his head around, eyes examining Blaine closely, "You're serious?"

Blaine nodded shortly, "Deadly."

And with that, Kurt launched himself at his boyfriend, unable to keep the grin from his face, kissing him with fervor. Blaine smiled into the kiss, sliding his hands down to Kurt's ass, pushing him upward. Kurt licked into Blaine's mouth, feeling confident and brazen, rolling his hips into Blaine, making the man beneath him groan softly.

Pulling back, whispering into his mouth, Kurt spoke – "So … I was … _your_ first kiss, sort of, too?"

Blaine smirked, pulling one hand up to brush the sandy hair of Kurt's cowlick fringe behind his ear. "You … you could say that, babe. First one that mattered to me, anyway."

Kurt giggled, kissing him again. Kurt rolled himself so he was resting his body weight atop Blaine, fitting their hips together, placing his forearms on either side of Blaine's head, bowing his neck to capture Blaine's lips, moving his body gently up and down, using his position to tease his boyfriend.

When his cock was straining against the zipper of his tight jeans, his face flushed and arms feeling weak, he pulled back. "Blaine, I – I want you."

Blaine arched up, "I want you too, baby", trying to capture Kurt's mouth again.

Kurt pulled his head back, feeling emboldened, taking one of Blaine's hands in his own, raking it slowly down the side of his own body until it dipped into the crevice of his ass, where he pushed back against the hand. "No, Blaine, I. _I want you."_

Blaine's eyes widened, the hand on Kurt's ass squeezing gently, "_Fuck_, Kurt." Blaine felt his stomach twist in knots, his cock had already been leaking in his briefs, the pressure of Kurt on top him making his body desperate for what Kurt was _asking_ for. Rolling them over, so their positions were switched, Blaine traced his hand up Kurt's inner thigh, capturing his earlobe between his teeth shortly, before breaking away to look into Kurt's eyes.

"What do you want, Kurt? I need – I need you to tell me exactly what you want," Blaine gulped, searching Kurt's face for any sign of doubt, "It's important."

Kurt flushed furiously at the desperate hush of Blaine's voice, the tone like gravel and pure _sex_. It shot up his spine, making his entire body rigid with need. Squirming beneath him, he replied, "I – I want, y-you to – to. I want you -" Kurt steadied his breath, "… inside of me." Kurt bit his bottom lip, eyes gracing Blaine's, offering him reassurance.

With a renewed sense of energy, Blaine ducked to capture Kurt's mouth with his own, suckling his tongue, trying to shimmy down Kurt's tight pants. Kurt lifted his hips, his own hands working on Blaine's pants, desperate to feel as close to him as possible. Soon, both had their pants by their ankles, Blaine thrusting his hard on against Kurt's in a pace without any rhythm, just an unhurried but frenzied movement of his hips. Kurt pulled away, face hot and body drawn tight. Without another thought, he hooked his thumbs into his briefs, shimmying them down to where his pants were. Blaine had his eyes closed, breathing shallowly, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Kurt leant up, pulling that lip into his mouth, groaning softly at the feel of soft cotton on his now exposed dick.

Breaking free, Kurt whispered into his ear, feeling courageous and wound up, "Do – do you have … uh, lubricant?"

Blaine gulped down air, nodding slowly, before rolling to his side table to pull out a small bottle of KY Jelly and a condom, placing the items beside them on the bed. Blaine looked up at Kurt from beneath his dark lashes, his wild black curls framing his face.

"You're – you're sure? Because we can stop, anytime - …"

Kurt smiled softly, knowing that if he'd had any doubts at all, the way Blaine was treating him right now – with care, and reverence – would've erased them altogether. He reached for Blaine's left hand, twining their fingers.

"I'm sure. I want this, with you. I love you." He squeezed Blaine's hand, at that, and Blaine squeezed back. They were in this together.

Breathing heavily, Blaine nodded, before reaching for the lube and lathering it on his index and forefinger, kissing Kurt softly as he spread Kurt's legs, placing his index finger at the rim of Kurt's hole. Kurt jolted slightly from the cold, damp feeling, before relaxing into it.

Blaine looked up, "S-sorry." But Kurt just shook his head. They kept their eyes on one another, as Blaine gently, slowly, pushed his finger inside of Kurt.

The feeling was … different. Not unpleasant, just - different. Kurt swallowed, bracing his arm around Blaine's shoulders, curling his other hand around his tanned bicep, urging him to continue. Blaine moved back and forth, slowly easing into Kurt, before his body was stretched enough for Blaine to thrust, his eyes asking if this was okay. Kurt nodded, whispering in a soft, high voice, "M-more. Please." Blaine pulled out, then, before breaching Kurt's hole again with his index and forefinger. This … this was more. Kurt winced, the stretch slightly uncomfortable, but the discomfort was gone as soon as it came. Kurt focused on breathing, relaxing his muscles, and soon his half-hard cock was straining once again. Delirious with the newness of everything, Kurt was moaning abruptly, unable to contain his sighs and groans.

Blaine let his forehead fall to Kurt's chest, curving his neck so he could watch what he was doing while resting atop Kurt, "Fuck, baby. So fucking tight. You feel amazing."

Once Blaine had lubed up a third finger and stretched Kurt until he was crying out for more, more,_ more, _Blaine eased out of him, wiping his hand on the bedsheets before reaching a shaky hand to the condom. He opened the packet carefully, fingers slippery and unsteady, before rolling the latex on his dick that was hard and leaking an embarrassing amount of pre cum on his stomach.

Kurt bit his lip, watching. Blaine was – he was _big, _and Kurt was slightly – well, nervous. Ready, but … nervous.

Breaking him out of his thoughts, he realized Blaine had asked him something, "W-what, sorry?"

"How – how do you want to do this?" Blaine gestured between the two of them, his voice soft against the hot, cloying air.

Kurt considered. "I – I want to see you, when -. Um. C-can we just do it like this?"

Kurt lay back against the pillows, sucking in a breath as he spread his legs.

Blaine let out a choked noise, as he moved forward, uttering an "Uh-huh, that should work." Before lining himself up, the head of his dick, swathed in slippery latex, catching on the rim of Kurt's hole. Kurt moaned, needing that feeling of being _full,_ again. Blaine brought his hand up to Kurt's cheek, brushing softly, looking directly into his eyes. Pushing forward, gently, he entered Kurt.

Kurt gasped, eyes closing involuntarily at the spark of unadulterated pleasure of feeling this full. Blaine stopped, just the head of his dick inside, before wrenching out a guttural moan deep in his chest, dropping his head down, amazed at the sight of his and Kurt's bodies, joined. "Ffffffffffffuuuuu_uuuuck- Kurt."_

He edged forward more, this time breaching Kurt's hole a little more. Kurt swallowed and clenched his body down, before relaxing. Blaine went like that, little by little, allowing Kurt time to adjust before he was soon full seated inside of him.

Blaine was panting with the constraint of holding back, letting out near constant moans of Kurt's name and various curse words, and a stream of _fuck you're so tight, so warm, feels so good._

Looking up at Kurt, Blaine gained enough composure to string a sentence together – "Are, are you okay, baby?"

Kurt nodded jerkily, "J-just. Go slow. You're – you're _so big."_

Blaine's entire body jolted at those words coming from Kurt's mouth. "Fuck, Kurt. Jesus _Christ._ Warn a guy._" _Before leaning down to capture Kurt's mouth, kissing him deeply and without finesse, distracting Kurt from the movements of Blaine's hips.

Soon, Kurt was moaning at the drag of Blaine inside him, his cock aching where it was lying hard on his stomach, but his body was weak with the pleasure that surged through him at every thrust of Blaine's hips.

"B-baby, Kurt, I – I'm not gonna last, holy_ fuck_ - …" Blaine exerted, breath washing over Kurt's face.

Kurt grasped his dick, moving his hand with frantic speed, "P-please, Blaine – I need -"

"What, what do you need baby? Anything, anything."

"Hard-harder. Please, oh my God."

Blaine moaned, bracing his arms on the head board, before snapping his hips into Kurt.

"Fuck! Do that again, Blaine – Oh my, Oh my God."

Blaine did it again, fucking into Kurt, hitting at just the right angle for Kurt to feel the absolute debauched sickly pleasure course through him, his orgasm nearing him, and when Blaine leant forward, effectively bending Kurt's body upwards, with another snap of his hips Kurt was gone.

"F-fuck, _Blaine_!" Hot spurts of come hit his torso as Blaine increased his movements to an impossible pace, his face screwed up in concentration, breaths coming out in gasps against Kurt's reddened skin.

Blaine arched his back, going still aside from the uncontrolled jerking of his hips, a deep whine of Kurt's name falling from his lips as he shot come into the condom, his cock buried deep inside of Kurt.

His body exhausted and tingling, Blaine leaned down to kiss Kurt, biting his lips, licking into his mouth. Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's back, keeping him close.

But - Blaine's entire body was shivering, his eyes brimming red.

"B-Blaine, baby, you're shaking. Are you okay?"

Blaine shut his eyes, trying to stop the quivering in his bones, shaking his head. He bent down to kiss Kurt again, but it just made it worse, a terrible ache constricting at his chest. Blaine rolled off of Kurt, taking off the condom and flinging it into the trash. Trying to capture his breath, he felt the familiar sense of anxiety contracting his body. Fuck, not _now_.

"Blaine?"

"K-Kurt -" his voice was a broken sob, as he tried to breathe, feeling inexplicable panic rising in his chest, tears running freely now from his eyes, hands clutching at his bed sheets – grasping for anything, anything. Forcing himself to sit up, remembering how Kurt had helped him last time, he leant his head down, breathing out, trying to reign himself in.

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine from behind, hiding his face in his neck, rubbing his palms over the soft, thick hair of Blaine's thighs.

The contact was soothing, comforting. "I-I'm here, Blaine. You're _okay_."

With a shaky breath, Blaine was able to speak, "It's just – I -"

Kurt shook his head against the crook of Blaine's neck, "Shhhhh, Blaine. Just breathe. Talk when you're ready."

Blaine let out a choked sob, falling apart in Kurt's arms.

Kurt's thoughts were scattered, but the only thing he felt with clarity was that familiar urge to protect. He was so in love with this man, seeing him hurt – and being unable to stop it – it was like a knife to the chest, and he was hot butter.

Eventually, Blaine's breathing calmed, tears no longer tracing tracks down his face.

Kurt pulled him backward, so that they were lying back to chest, side by side. The nakedness of their bodies served as a comfort, maintaining one another's warmth. Arm clamped possessively across Blaine's chest, Kurt ducked his head to kiss the tear tracks on his cheeks, tracing his lips over Blaine's as he let out a shudder of breath.

"I am so in love with you, Blaine Anderson."

Blaine clamped his eyes shut, letting out a soft whimper. "I-I'm so s-s-sorry, Kurt -"

"Hey, no." Kurt rolled himself over Blaine, resting his hands atop his chest, placing his chin on them to stare up at Blaine. "You never have to apologize for that, okay?"

Blaine shut his eyes, again, nodded infinitesimally, gulping down air.

Feeling his chest release the tension, feeling his body relax into his surroundings again, he was overcome with simultaneous gratitude and burning mortification, his cheeks reddening –

"Fuck. I'm a grown ass man who just had a panic attack because I lost my virginity. Well, the only virginity that mattered, anyway. I mean – fuck-fucking_ hell_."

The self-deprecation in the tone of his voice made Kurt's heart clench, as he pulled his hand up to grasp at Blaine's jaw, forcing him to look down and face Kurt.

"You - you have _nothing_ to be embarrassed about, Blaine. Nothing." He placed a small kiss to Blaine's collarbone, "But -… I do think, we should … we should talk about what scared you?"

Blaine shook his head, "I don't – I don't _know_, Kurt." There was a beat of silence, before Blaine went on – "I just, I never thought I'd have this. The last time I let myself dream about – about love, I was 14, and it didn't, exactly, end well. I never thought I'd – I never thought about _sex_. It was always just … something I did with girls to keep … well, you know."

Kurt raised his eyebrow, tracing his fingers across Blaine's cheekbone, memorizing the lines and curves of his face. "You … you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to -"

But Blaine shook his head, "N-no. I … I want you to know. I want you to know everything. I love you so much, Kurt."

Kurt gulped, nodding shakily, and with that, Blaine did just that – he told him everything.

He told him about Ryan, and Cooper, and his parents. About living on the streets, those first few months about the consequences of his first crush. And everything … everything began to fit into place.

Blaine's unwillingness to show himself, his fear and anxiety when it came to letting parts of himself – his wants, his vulnerabilities – be known. His seemingly internalized homophobia about what it meant to be powerful and masculine. Kurt – he tried to tamper it down, but he was just - livid. Fuming. He was so consumed with rage, he could feel it shake and rattle his bones. Because – it just. It wasn't _fucking fair._

But Blaine spoke on. He was releasing everything, sharing himself. Out of anything, all he wanted in the world, was to feel the freedom to be himself.

Kurt – Kurt gave him that. But now - … now he was beginning to realize that he had to give it to himself, aswell. That maybe -… maybe he deserved it, too.

And he knew what he needed to do, now. He had to find Cooper. He had to – do something, something to change the life he's been living.

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all those who have taken the time to follow/favourite/review or even just read! It means so much to me, really. Because University has started up again, updates are going to be once a week now (hopefully!). I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, please review! To the person who commented on my grammar ... thank you! I'm trying to work on it, but it's a struggle. Your input was helpful, though, even if grammar is like my biggest insecurity when writing fiction! (I'm used to writing academia, and conversational writing is like the bane of my existence, oops.)

Remember there is a link to the playlist for this story on my profile, if you guys are interested.

Ciao for now, lovely humans~ xo


	14. Part 13

**PART 13**

The next few weeks were faced with school board meetings, Kurt's father red-faced and furious, yelling at any authority the high school brought forward.

Kurt had told his dad about Karofsky's threats. The school, of course, didn't take it seriously – why would they? But Burt Hummel was two things – strong-willed, and hard-loving. The love he had for his son was unconditional, and it increased his will to protect him at all costs ten-fold. After various threats of lawsuits, of suing Karofsky's family – whatever he could think of – Karofsky was suspended indefinitely, and the school board were finally revising their policies on bullying.

The threat – the threat was gone. And Kurt walked the halls, unafraid, feeling his old self – the unabashed, proud and fiery boy – begin to shine through once more.

His relationship with Blaine was also slipping back into old habits, which worried him. Blaine had yet to talk about a decision for their future. Kurt was off to Nationals for Glee club in New York in a week's time, and he was pretty sure what he would find there would solidify his dream of going to college in NYC.

What that would mean, for him and Blaine, however – it kept him up at night, no matter how many times he told himself to not concern himself with something a year away. But, thoughts – they came anyway.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Kurt, Blaine had been spending his days rearranging his life. The day after he'd told Kurt the full story of his past, Blaine had called Cooper, and arranged to meet him. They'd gotten into a fight within the first ten minutes, of course, but eventually - … eventually they were able to discuss a few things. Like _how_ exactly Blaine was going to get out of the drug dealing business without - skipping town and disappearing completely. As much as that was the safest option, Blaine wouldn't – _couldn't._ But, there were a lot of people whom he made money for. While he essentially worked for no-one, his suppliers relied on his selling skills to bring in profit. And, though lately, business had been poor – he was still their most reliable buyer. And they probably wouldn't just accept a simple adios. There was also the additional problem that anybody going legitimate was immediately under heavy suspicion by the people he worked with. It was … it was going to be dangerous.

It was a relief for Blaine though, to be able to talk openly about it. Cooper had always had connections with the illicit drug world, which was how he found Blaine so easily, and he knew exactly what Blaine's life entailed. These were things … things he couldn't exactly tell Kurt.

But, they came up with a plan. Blaine would settle any of his debts with Cooper's help - … something that made Blaine feel ill -, and then he would put some of his top sellers in charge.

It was dirty, and Blaine didn't really want for what he had established in Lima to continue – but there was little choice, as always. And then … then, he would move in with Cooper, and try to find a job for Kurt's last year of high school (Cooper had been appropriately tight lipped about Blaine's high school boyfriend).

That last part of their plan – _living with Cooper_, it left a bitter taste in Blaine's mouth. But - … it had to be done. It made the most sense, economically. And, it was only for a year. So, Blaine sucked it up and agreed, because this was what he had to do, for Kurt. And, for himself.

A week after Kurt returned from Nationals in New York, having lost miserably due to Quinn going into labor mid-performance, Kurt was tossing and turning in his sleep, the heat from the slow approaching summer sinking into his skin. His thoughts were running a mile a minute, focused on nothing in particular, when he heard a soft knock from the side door of his room – the one that connected straight outside, given he lived downstairs, but that was disused due to being unable to lock it from the outside.

Sitting up, confused, Kurt turned on the lamp from the side of his bed, kicking the tangled bed sheets from his bare legs, walking on unsteady feet toward the door.

Messing with the lock and jiggling the stiff door as quietly as possible, Kurt opened it to find Blaine on the other side.

"Blaine? What – Oh My God what happened?"

Blaine was bruised and bleeding, his left eye closed and black, blood spattered all over his army green t-shirt. He stood in Kurt's doorstep, shivering – from - from blood loss? Kurt thought, his mind frantic, face set in worry.

Blaine winced as he went to talk, mumbling – "C-can I come in?"

Anxious, Kurt nodded, stepping aside to let Blaine limp into his room, taking in the full sight of him. "Blaine – what on earth – we need to get you to a hospital, Oh my God."

Blaine shook his head, cringing at the movement, speaking with as much force as he could muster – "No, no hospitals. Please. I'm – I'm fine, it's mostly superficial. I swear. "

Kurt moved closer, swiping the smear of blood from Blaine's bottom lip, whimpering with sheer horror – it was just – his _face_, Kurt had never seen anything like it in real life before – "How, how did you even get here?"

Blaine almost-smirked, but cringed at the movement, "Drove."

"You drove?! – _Are you insane_? Oh my God. Just – Oh my God."

With that Kurt moved Blaine to his bed, sitting him on the edge – "Wait here, okay. I'll be right back."

Blaine chuckled softly – "Not going anywhere, right now."

Kurt rolled his eyes, glad his boyfriend was in a chipper enough mood to make _jokes,_ when Kurt was freaking out. Rustling around in his ensuite bathroom sink, he found his all-purpose first aid kit, tissue paper, and pain killers.

Rushing back, he dropped the supplies next to Blaine, who was swaying gently back and forth, eyes closed. "Blaine," Kurt choked, sniffing heavily – "What – what the hell happened?"

Blaine peeked his good eye open, "I – I'm out, Kurt. I, I went to my old suppliers. Paid back my debts. Organized everything. But they – they don't really take kindly to being left in the lurch, so. They gave me a proper goodbye."

"_Drug suppliers_ did this to you? Blaine – we should, we should call the police-"

Blaine snorted, then winced at what that did to his bleeding nose, " – Uh. That's not really, an option, Kurt. Don't worry. I'm fine. This is _good_, Kurt. I'm _out_."

"You're _hurt,_ that's not _good_." Kurt began to fuss, taking things out of his kit, stripping Blaine of his stained shirt, gasping at the sight of the already forming bruises. "Fuck, _Blaine."_ His voice was pained, holding back all the things he wanted to say – things like, how do you not see? How do you not know that I would do anything, _anything_ to keep you from hurting? _How do you not see?_

Kurt folded up tissue, dampening it with saline – "This might sting." He whispered, softly cleaning Blaine's face.

When he was done, he was able to examine the extent of his injuries. His movements were mechanical, methodical. Every now and then, Kurt would utter a gentle _sorry_, when Blaine would wince at his touch. Other than that, he worked in silence, comforted only by the sound of Blaine's even breathing.

Finally, he handed Blaine the two pain killers he'd fetched and the glass of water from beside his bed, eyeing him as he gulped them down.

It was then – it was then he noticed the tears falling freely down his own face. Embarrassed, he rushed to wipe them away, turning his face downward.

Blaine's gaze – still so penetrative even with one eye out of action – was soft, and apologetic – "Kurt, _I'm okay._ C'mere."

Kurt sat neatly next to him, ducking his face into Blaine's shirtless chest, sobbing quietly. "You can't – you can't ever do this again to me, okay?"

Blaine nodded, wrapping his arm tightly around Kurt's waist, "Never, never, never. Promise you, baby. I'm okay, I'm okay."

Kurt swallowed, tears stopping eventually. Wiping his face abruptly, he sat up. "You should – you should lie down. You need to rest." He fluffed his pillows, pulling back the covers, fussing over Blaine as he stood. When Blaine was settled in, Kurt turned off all the lights, before settling in next to Blaine's warm body. Curling up to his side, careful not to rest any of his weight on him. Blaine whispered – "Thank you. Don't know what I'd do without you."

Kurt sniffed again, rubbing his chin into Blaine's collarbone – "S'okay. You scared me, though."

Blaine traced a hand across Kurt's pajama clad belly – "I'm sorry – I just. I didn't know where else – I didn't want to go to Cooper -"

"Cooper?"

Blaine smiled as much as he could with his taped lip, "It was – it was gonna be a surprise, but yeah. He – um, he helped me out. I'm … uh. I'm moving in with him, for … the next year." Blaine kept his face turned to the ceiling, but Kurt could feel the heated blush spreading across his collarbone.

Kurt's heart sped up, "You - … Oh my God, Blaine." Kurt grinned, planting a kiss on Blaine's shoulder, "That's … wow. I don't really know what to say."

Blaine shrugged his shoulder, "I want you in my life, Kurt. Whatever it takes."

Kurt gulped, feeling bile rise in his throat, when he realized – "Wait, so all this - " he gestured blindly to Blaine's injuries, feeling sick, "Is because – because of _me_?"

But Blaine captured his chin, "No. _No. _This is because of me. Stop – stop that train of thought right now, Kurt." He assured, wildly.

"But -"

"No, Kurt. I knew what I was doing. I knew there was a chance of this. But – it's worth it. And not just for you. I don't want this life any more. It's not me. It never has been. I want – I want to be happy, and you're a big part of that. Just, don't blame yourself, ever, for my choices, okay?"

Kurt let it sink in. Gently, he nodded, "Okay."

And with a soft kiss planted on Blaine's Adams apple, they each fell into a restful sleep, Blaine exhausted and dozy from the pain killers.

They awoke, however, to a fuming Burt Hummel, looming at Kurt's bedside.

TBC


	15. Part 14

A/N: I wanted to get this chapter out as fast as possible 'cause I know the last one was a cliffie, so the next one might be in about a week. Trust that I know where I'm going with this story so chapters are planned out, it's just finding the time :) thanks as always to everyone who has read, followed, favourited, reviewed ... you're all lovely 3

* * *

**PART 14**

Kurt awoke with a start, jolted awake by the sound of a loud clearing of someone's throat. Sleepily opening his eyes at the morning sun, he saw a figure – his dad. Standing there, in his flannel shirt and baggy jeans, with the scariest look on his face Kurt had ever seen, and – oh. Oh, My God. Kurt shuffled quickly away from Blaine's still sleeping body.

"D-dad – it's, it's not what you think!"

Burt had his arms crossed over his chest, brows cast down, glaring at the shape of Blaine's body beneath Kurt's covers, his head of curls spread across the white pillow.

"Explain yourself right now, Kurt. Right. Now."

Kurt's hands were twisting in his bed covers, frantically trying to come up with – something – but – _what_? He couldn't think of a single excuse that wasn't _worse_ than what they were really doing. So - … honesty it was, then.

"B-blaine and I. We … we are um. Dating. We're dating." Kurt spoke fast, almost inaudibly.

Kurt kept his eyes carefully on the spot on the wall behind his dad's head, unable to face him right now. Eventually, though, the silence got to him. Bracing himself, he looked at his father – who was staring at him, _gaping,_ in absolute shock.

It was then a soft grumble came from beside Kurt, as Blaine flopped his arm across the bed in search of him, groaning at the distance. Kurt caught Blaine's arm, smoothing his hand over it – "B-blaine, s-sweetie. You should. Uh, wake up."

Blaine lifted his head, his good eye blinking in confusion, before Kurt tilted his head in the direction of Burt Hummel. Blaine twisted his body, still for a second, before his entire face twisted into abject terror, sitting up abruptly.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't call the police."

"D-dad! I'm seventeen, this isn't illegal! And we didn't even _do_ _anything -…"_

"That doesn't stop this man from trespassing on my property, given I don't recall _ever _giving him permission to be here."

Blaine was swallowing down his fear, terrified of what Burt would do to them. He opened his mouth, working his jaw, before speaking. "S-sir. I know you have no reason to believe me, but trust me when I say I meant no disrespect- ..."

"You're right, I have no reason to believe you."

Blaine shrunk. Looking at Kurt, who seemed frozen, completely at a loss for what to do – there was nothing _to _do. They were found out … what that could mean, though. It was _paralyzing_ to Kurt.

"Dad – please, just. Let me explain -"

"Oh, you'll be explaining, alright. How a man easily a decade older than you is laying in your bed, a man _you_ told me you _hardly knew_? What else have you been lying about, Kurt?"

"J-just this – I swear! – Blaine and I," Kurt gestured to the frozen figure that was his boyfriend, sitting stock still next to him, "we met when Finn convinced me to help get Puck to take responsibility for Quinn's baby – we went to one of Blaine's parties, and. Well - … turns out Blaine is gay. And we – we have lots of things in common, so we started texting … and realized we had feelings for each other. So I started seeing him after school before coming home … when I told you I was at the library – and I'm sorry! I am, you have no idea how hard it is to lie to you – but I _knew_ you wouldn't understand, Dad."

Burt shook his head, "No, you're damned right I don't understand."

So, Kurt rushed forward through his explanation – "Well – after you and Blaine met for the first time, me and him broke up because I didn't like how he treated you." Blaine looked down at his hands, swallowing guiltily – "B-but. After Karofsky – he - I had no-one to turn to, immediately after, and Blaine was there for me. He helped me realize I couldn't deal with it alone. Dad – please, just give him a chance, _please_."

Burt crossed his arms over his chest. His face had softened, slightly, but when his eyes were leveled with the shirtless man in his son's bed – well, the softness was gone as quickly as it had come.

"And how exactly does that lead to you two in bed together?"

Kurt bit his lip, face going red. "Blaine – he's trying to change his life. Last night, he -" stopping suddenly, Kurt looked at Blaine, checking it was okay to share this – Blaine nodded shortly, and Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's, squeezing gently, "- he made his intention of leaving known to his … associates. They – they _beat him up_ Dad, and he drove here. Look at his face! We didn't do anything, I swear, but I wasn't about to tell him to leave, okay?"

Blaine spoke up, again, firmly this time. "Mr Hummel, I know the first time we met I was – I was awful. I want to apologize for that. I'm also … I'm sorry I came here, last night. But – But I'm not sorry for dating Kurt. I love your son, Mr Hummel, and I know you hate me, I know you think I'm a no good criminal. And you'd be right, the majority of my life has been spent doing things I'm not entirely proud of. But - … I'm, I'm trying. Trying to do better. I love Kurt, and I'm not going to stop any time soon."

Burt had shifted from foot to foot throughout the speech. Now he uncrossed his arms, narrowing his eyes – "Look. I'm going to be honest – It doesn't matter. You're still, what? In your late twenties? This just … it's just inappropriate. Frankly, It's a little creepy."

"Dad!" Kurt admonished, embarrassed and trying to remain calm, tamping down his immediate response of defence.

Burt just shrugged, and Blaine nodded shortly, before standing up to put on his discarded T-shirt. "I- I'll be going, then." Blaine turned to give a look to Kurt, and it felt far too much like goodbye.

"No, Blaine! You can't – you can not drive like this. You'll have an accident." Kurt got up, looking around for shoes to shove on. "Dad – I'm going to drive Blaine home. You can yell at me, ground me, chain me in the basement or whatever, just - later. I'm not letting him drive like this."

Kurt leveled his father with a glare, daring him to say no.

Burt sighed heavily, "Fine. But I'll follow in my car, otherwise how do you expect to get home?"

Kurt groaned, already mortified, but nodded. Blaine was just standing there awkwardly, before he realized the Hummel's were both staring at him. Clearing his throat, he turned, heading straight out to his car. Before rushing out after him, Kurt muttered a thank you to his father, and tossed some of his first-aid supplies into a carry bag.

The drive was silent, mostly, aside from Kurt's constant huffing whenever he checked his rear view and saw his father diligently tailing them. He just – he needed some privacy, or so _help_ him.

Blaine groaned softly from the passenger seat, head lolled against the headrest.

Kurt glanced over, concern etched in his eyes, "Are you okay?"**  
**Blaine glanced back, "Mmhhm – sore."

Kurt nodded, turning back toward the road, realizing they were nearing Blaine's.

"I'll – I'll change your bandages when we get to yours."

"Will –... your Dad be okay with that?"

"I don't _fucking _care, he's probably going to ground me for the rest of my life, or - I don't even know – so, I'll do what I want. And what I _want_, is to make sure you're okay, okay?"

Blaine lifted his hand to prop it lightly over Kurt's on the gear stick, rubbing circles against the inside of his wrist. Kurt breathed, silence hung in the air.

While Blaine was dealing with trying to distract himself from the physical pain in his face and torso, he was also trying to think of anything but the repercussions of Kurt's father finding out about them. His chest tightened at Kurt's words – he knew Kurt got angry and defensive when he was scared. He understood. Blaine was scared, too.

Lifting his head, he nodded, whispering an almost inaudible "O-okay." Before he fixed his gaze on Kurt, memorizing with his good eye, every line, every freckle, and every curve that was _Kurt._

* * *

When they arrived at Blaine's, Kurt hopped abruptly from the car, racing to his Dad. They had what looked like a heated conversation, while Blaine slowly stepped from his car, pretending to be distracted by looking for the keys to his apartment.

Moments later, Kurt was jogging back, grabbing his carry bag from the back seat.

"C'mon – we have ten minutes."

Gulping, Blaine glanced at Burt Hummel, who was leaning against his car, arms across his chest.

Nodding, Blaine hurried toward the flight of stairs at the base of the block, Kurt following behind him.

Every now and again, Blaine would sway on the steps, Kurt behind him, keeping his hands braced – just in case. Kurt was worried, because Blaine's balance was so off, and while his eye wasn't overly swollen, the bruising was dramatic. Finally, they made it to Blaine's apartment. Kurt rushed Blaine to sit down, bringing out his supplies, dropping them at the foot of the couch before hurrying toward the Kitchen.

Emerging seconds later with a glass of water, an ice cube, and a tea towel, Kurt methodically, silently, dabbed at any dried blood on Blaine's face with a corner of the dampened towel, before wrapping the ice cube up and instructing Blaine to hold it beneath his eye to soothe the pain.

While Kurt was concentrating on rubbing ointments and countless creams into Blaine's wounds, Blaine didn't miss the shake in his hands, or the way he was carefully not speaking.

"Kurt. Baby, look at me."

Kurt's face contorted into an expression of pain, looking away pointedly, before Blaine grasped his face, forcing his eyes upward.

"I – I'm just. He's so mad, Blaine. I've never lied to him before – _never_ – and … I'm so scared …"

Blaine swallowed heavily.

"No matter what happens, I'll be here. And I will wait for you. He's not going to tear us apart – he _won't_, okay?"

"But – but – you don't know that! And, we just, finally – I feel like we finally … and now, now -"

Blaine shook his head, uttering a hush, as he placed a kiss on Kurt's lips, moving them slowly together, licking slowly in, bringing them as close as possible from their position.

"Kurt. Just – do you have a pen and paper?"

Kurt shook his head, so Blaine got up, finding what he was looking for he returned, scribbling something on an old receipt –

"Here's where Cooper lives, and his home number. If you need – if you need anything. I'll be there. We will not lose each other, okay?"

Kurt sniffed softly, nodding and taking the paper. He stood, Blaine wrapped his arms across his waist, burying his nose in the nape of Kurt's neck.

They held each other for a while, each breathing the other in. Blaine loosened his grip, looking up at Kurt, "You should – you should go. I don't want you in more trouble."

Kurt nodded solemnly, "Will you be -… okay?"

Blaine smiled a soft, fond smile, tilting his head toward the first aid supplies Kurt had scattered on his table, "I think I'm set, babe."

Kurt giggled, but the sound felt strange in the tense air.

Blaine continued, "So, I guess – this is, um … goodb -" Kurt put his finger to Blaine's mouth, shaking his head wildly, eyes brimmed red.

"No. No goodbyes. I'm – I'm never saying goodbye to you."

Blaine's eyes widened, his own pain shining there, and as he lifted his mouth to Kurt's, he whispered against Kurt's lips, "We'll be okay."

With that, Kurt hurried from Blaine's apartment, not even acknowledging his father as he slammed his car door shut, sitting stoic, willing himself to hold in the gut wrenching feeling of finality this threat of separation brought on for him. He – he wanted to believe Blaine. But, he was familiar with loss – was familiar with things being ripped from him without warning. And it was hard to trust that that would not happen again.

* * *

After the longest, most awkward car ride of his life, Kurt traipsed heavily into his home, his father following keenly behind. As soon as the front door had closed with a bang, Burt was done with the silent treatment.

"Siddown. We're gonna have a talk."

Kurt swallowed, begrudgingly sitting on the couch.

"Now, I know you've been having a hard time at school, kiddo. But, frankly, nothing excuses this. This house – there are rules. And I thought we were honest with each other? I can't even believe this is happening right now, Kurt. I feel like I don't even know you."

Kurt crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to feel guilty. Truthfully, he wasn't exactly not talking on purpose, he just didn't trust his voice right now. Nor his ability to string sentences together. Everything felt like it was crashing atop him and all he could do was grasp for air.

"It goes without saying – you're grounded. Indefinitely. Gimme your phone and laptop, and you're _never_ seeing that man again."

Kurt surged from the couch, running to his room, ignoring his Dad calling after him. Slamming his door, shoving his body heavily against it, shakily dialing Blaine's number.

It rung for several moments, before Blaine picked up, "Kurt?"

Kurt choked, letting out a sob as he felt his Dad knocking on the other side of the door, tears leaving hot, wet tracks down his face.

"He – he's taking my phone. And he's banned us from seeing each other. I don't – I don't know what to do." He was blurring his words together, fear and desolation gripping him. This was so much worse than before – not _now,_ not when everything was finally coming together, when Kurt had finally let himself hope –

Blaine was hushing him, and his voice felt like a soft blanket to Kurt – "Baby, baby, I told you I'll wait for you, didn't I?"

"Uh-huh." Kurt nodded, squeezing his eyes shut, "But – but I don't know how long -"

"It doesn't matter how long, Kurt. I'll be here. _I love you_."

Kurt sniffed, "I – I love you too. It just hurts – it hurts so much, Blaine."

When Blaine answered, his voice was containing something deeper, and his words came out croaky, "I know baby, I know. But we will survive this, okay?"

"O-okay." Kurt was still breathing sporadically, tears caught behind his lids.

"You should -" Blaine drew in a shaky breath, "You should do everything your Dad tells you, okay?"

Kurt sighed, nodding again, "I – I'll miss you."

"You too. _God_, so much." His voice was a mere whisper, and there was no disguising the tenderness there.

With that, Kurt hurriedly pressed the end call button, pushing his weight from off the door.

He wrenched it open, wiping at his eyes, before shoving his now off phone into his fathers grasp.

His father just fixed him with a stern glare, but Kurt ignored it, turning away from his father to go cry in his bathroom, at least there was a lock in there.


	16. Part 15

A/N: Reviews are wonderful and help me write quicker ;) thanks to everyone reading! Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, obviously, and any recognizable dialogue is not mine ...

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**PART 15**

Kurt spent the first week moping, giving his father the best silent treatment he could. Considering part of his punishment was to work at Burt's tire shop all of his summer break, it proved to be difficult.

It wasn't even that Kurt was mad, per se, and it wasn't that he didn't understand where his Dad was coming from. It was just … why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't something go right for him, for once?

Kurt huffed a heavy sigh when he walked into the kitchen to see his father standing there, hunched over a pile of papers. It was Saturday night, and Burt was playing babysitter while Finn was out with Puck and Carole out with friends. Explaining to Finn why he'd been grounded had been a task, given he didn't want to out Blaine. Deliberately looking away from his Dad, Kurt headed for the fridge.

"Kurt."

Silence.

"Alright, that's _enough_, kid. Sit down."

Burt had commandeered the space between the doorway and the fridge, effectively blocking Kurt from leaving. Kurt cast his eyes downward, cheeks flushing as he slumped to the stool next to the island in their kitchen. His father sat across from him, sliding some of the papers over toward him.

When they entered into Kurt's view, he spluttered, his eyes widening. He whipped his head up, "Dad?"

"It's time you and I had 'the talk', Kurt."

At this point all the color had drained from Kurt's face, who was gaping openly at the stern, un-telling expression on Burt's face.

"No! No, no, no, I'm fine – we don't need to – no." Kurt shook his head vehemently – could this get any more mortifying?

Giving him a pointed look Burt gestured toward the pamphlets,.

"Most of the technical stuff is in those. But that's not what this is about. Frankly, I'm worried, Kurt. I _do _know you're growing up, and you've always been self-determined. I also am aware that everything you've been through has made you mature, maybe faster, than other people your age. But I'm standing here, as your father, worried about my seventeen year old kid who has apparently been in an ongoing relationship with a grown man."

Kurt gulped, embarrassment burning through him, his neck burning hot and hands fiddling with the edge of his seat.

"Dad – it wasn't about _age _– if you would just -"

Burt held a hand up, stopping Kurt mid-speech.

"I'm not interested in arguing with you, Kurt. But you and me, we're going to have a talk, and I need to know that you're going to listen to me, okay?"

Fixed with a hard stare, Kurt held his father's gaze for a few moments, before relenting and nodding his head infinitesimally.

"Now, first of all, you gotta know how much I love you. I want only the best for you, because that's what you deserve."

Internally, Kurt thought, _Blaine_ _is what was best for me._

"Sex is … its fun. And for most guys, they don't really think about the consequences, or think beyond the physical aspect."

"Women are different?" Kurt questioned.

"Only because they get that it's about something more than just the physical. You know, when you're intimate with somebody, in that way, you're exposing yourself. And it _is _always about something more than the physical."

Kurt swallowed. He … he knew this. The way Blaine made him feel – he knew what it felt like, that closeness.

"… What's your point, Dad?"

"I just want you to know – really _know_ – that the decisions you make about your body are your own. I don't want you to think that just because somebody has more experience than you or because you're attracted to them that you have to get caught up and act on it-"

"Dad, Blaine has never pressured me to do anything, and he wouldn't, he _loves me."_

His father's expression was skeptical, but he didn't fight it.

"Just - Kurt, when you're ready, I want you to be able to... do everything. But when you're ready I want you to, use it as a way to connect to another person. Don't throw yourself around, like you don't matter. 'Cause you matter, Kurt."

Kurt really looked at his father, then. His expression was earnest, and Kurt's heart clenched. He knew he'd been unfair this past week – he just –

"Dad – I'm sorry. I am – _so _sorry for lying to you, and for … this week. I know – even though I don't agree with you – I know _why_ you're doing this."

Burt nodded, giving a small smile. Kurt got up from his stool, launching himself into his Dad's arms, sniffing softly into the flannel of his shirt.

"I love you, Dad."

Burt hugged him back.

When they parted, Kurt wiped at his face, giving a small laugh. He scooped up his pamphlets, "I'm just gonna -" he gestured to downstairs.

"Sure thing, Kiddo."

And with that, Kurt rushed downstairs. While the talk hadn't been as excruciating or condescendingly preachy as he'd feared, it was still uncomfortable and he was glad it was over.

His father's words ... did give him some things to think about, though. Probably not in the way his father had intended – because all he could think was how much he _didn't _regret anything that had happened with Blaine. He loved him, body and soul. What he _was _thinking about, however, was how Blaine reacted after their first time - how much physical intimacy shook him. Kurt just wished he could call him, to see how he was, to just hear his voice. He wanted to know if his bruises had healed, or how living with Cooper was going.

Kurt lay on his bed, pamphlets tossed to the side, deep in thought. Blaine had moved in with Cooper, _for Kurt. _And now, for his first week of living with him, Kurt hadn't even been around for him to talk to. It was maddening.

Kurt huffed. It wouldn't change anything, him sitting there and feeling guilty. So he got ready for bed, saying good night to his Dad for the first time in a week, and tried to fall asleep. As always, he closed his lids, and there was Blaine - smooth expanses of olive skin and beautiful dark eyes staring up into his. Kurt fell easily, for the first time that week, into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Across town, Blaine was lazing about on an expensive looking, uncomfortable leather couch, feet in muddy combat boots rested atop a glass coffee table as he watched some college football game on the flat screen television. A lit joint was being sucked sweetly between his lips, held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. The bruising around his eye had eased rather quickly once the swelling had gone down, and his other wounds were healing well too. Soon it would just be a distant memory.

Blaine inhaled the smoke deep into his lungs, holding it there, breathing evenly out his nose, before exhaling a smooth stream of smoke out his mouth. He let the feeling of slight disconnection overtake him, loving the way it made him just – be still. Usually, his body felt like it was vibrating out of his skin, like he couldn't concentrate. The soothing sensation welled over him, helped calm down his mind, his mind that had recently been a whirlwind of _I miss Kurt I miss Kurt I miss Kurt _or _I hate Cooper I hate Cooper I hate Cooper._

Cooper was a … challenge, to live with. He had women over, constantly, and it had only been a week. It was never the same one, but always the same routine. There was dinner at some over priced restaurant, that probably took an hour to drive to from their hick town. Then there was him inviting her back to his place for "a drink". It was him then turning on some terrible white guy imitation of jazz that sounded like it was made for an elevator that played loudly through his expensive surround sound system. Then, about a quarter of an hour later, it was Blaine, hiding his ears under his pillow as he heard the unmistakable sounds of sexual activity from down the hall in Cooper's room.

As his joint was burning slowly to the tip, a loud giggle pervaded Blaine's senses. _Christ. _Blaine quickly put it out in his empty can of beer, but there was not much to do about the smell. Fuck it, he thought. Maybe he should see how far Cooper's need for forgiveness stretched. (It was childish. He knew. But he'd always been a little childish, and fuck if he cared right now).

Cooper entered the room then with a voluptuous woman with brown skin and beautiful thick hair, dressed in a white wrap dress, following closely behind, before they both stopped in their tracks. The woman crinkled her nose at the smell, clearly not impressed, shooting Cooper a questioning glance.

"Blaine?"

Blaine turned, tilting his head up in greeting, "Hey."

"You … busy?" Blaine wanted to laugh at how awkward Cooper looked, in his three piece suit and loafers, trying to figure out how to explain the scruffy stoner on his couch.

But Blaine just cocked his head toward the T.V and replied, "Yep."

Cooper looked from the game on the T.V to Blaine several times, before turning to the woman,

"C'mon, I've got a great mini bar in the kitchen."

Blaine rolled his eyes as they left, lolling his head back on the couch. Despite the relaxing of his nervous system and ease of weight in his limbs, his heart weighed heavy. He'd done shit-all all that week, except mope and watch T.V. He missed Kurt. He also missed his friends. He'd had to hand control over to Kevin, a guy he'd known since he was twenty. Explaining why he was leaving was difficult because they could tell his excuse was bullshit, but thankfully people didn't really push. His business … hadn't really just been business, to him. Those guys had kind of been his friends. And while Kurt was worth it, completely, he felt … like part of his identity had been chipped away.

Shaking his head, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get those thoughts to leave him alone. It was stupid. Dealing was a _job, _not who he _is. _

* * *

The next morning, Blaine was being shaken awake by Cooper. He'd fallen asleep on the couch. _Christ, _he still had his boots on for fucks sake.

His eyes blurry, he sat up, "Hey, morning."

Cooper greeted him, urging him to scoot over so he could sit down. Blaine shifted.

"So. Last night … you're still smoking, I take it?"

Blaine shot him a look. "Uh … yeah?"

Cooper nodded, his face pondering. God, it drove Blaine mad.

"What, Cooper?"

Cooper looked at him, his face showing that he didn't really know how Blaine would react.

"It's just … you might have some now, but what happens when you need more? Are you going to get sucked back in? I would think that leaving drugs behind would mean leaving the consumption as well."

Blaine raised his eyebrow, on the defensive. "I've got a lot left over, that I _paid for. _And I will give it up … I mean, Kurt's never said anything but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want me …" he trailed off, leaving that thought unfinished, before continuing, "But it's only been a _week_, Coop. And I was bored, and pissed because I miss Kurt. So don't fucking judge me, okay."

Cooper eyed him. "You really love him, don't you?" His voice was soft, a flash of understanding in his dark green eyes.

Blaine gulped, looking away. "Y-yeah. I do." He pressed his palms together, before pushing them flat against his face.

Cooper pushed closer. "Then… what are you doing here, moping around and getting high? Why aren't you over there, with the guy that makes you happy?"

Blaine looked at him like he was crazy, "You know why, Coop, fuck. His Dad 'banned' me – and I really can't afford to break any of his rules, now."

"So you're just … waiting? That's - That's so weak, bro."

Blaine raised his voice, then. "What am I supposed to do? I'm _not_ risking losing Kurt altogether - and I don't even think Kurt would be _okay _with us sneaking around _again, _after doing it on and off the past year. Honestly, _I_ don't want to sneak around either. I want all of him. I need all of him."

Cooper was looking at him like he was the reincarnate himself, eyes shining with passion. Fuck, this was weird.

"Then _fight, _Blaine. Don't just give up; don't just wait around for a year. Get off your ass and fight for him. You think you guys will be the same after a year apart?" When Blaine opened his mouth at that, Cooper continued, "I'm not saying you won't still love each other – but, Blaine. You gave up your whole life for him, and you're just content with letting him be away from you? For fucks sake, bro, _fight."_

Blaine was feeling raw, at this point, his mind frenzied and chest heaving. "How?! How, Cooper? I'm completely powerless, here! It's not my fucking choice!"

"Get creative. Have an imagination, shit - convince his Dad you're not who he thinks you are. I don't know - only you know what would work, I don't even know Kurt. I'm just saying – you've got to do _something."_

Blaine was silent, his mind racing. Cooper patted him on the shoulder, "Just – don't give up, okay? You deserve to be happy."

Blaine swallowed, looking down, before nodding. "Th – thanks, Coop."

Cooper smiled, before exiting the room, heading toward the kitchen.

Blaine had no idea where to start. He had some thinking to do, though.


	17. Part 16

**PART 16**

Blaine pulled his car to a stop, drawing in a breath as he parked in the drive for Hummel Tires & Lube. He could do this. He was _going _to do this.

He'd convinced himself to talk to Burt two weeks ago, but … every single time he'd gotten close to the shop, he'd convinced himself it was a terrible idea, and turned around. But then … as soon as he'd arrived home, that swooping feeling of guilt him like a freight train. If he couldn't do this, if he couldn't fight for Kurt and his happiness, what right did he have to say he loved him?

So here he was. Dragging his palms over his eyes, shaking his neck out, Blaine turned off his engine and exited the car, waltzing through the garage doors.

Burt was bent over an engine, deep in concentration, when Blaine approached. The garage was empty, and Blaine looked around to see a clock on the wall – it was lunchtime.

Well, at least if Burt kicked his ass, there wouldn't be an audience.

Clearing his throat, Blaine shifted on his feet, "Excuse me, Mr. Hummel?"

Burt almost dropped the wrench in his hand, his head whipping up, and his eyes glaring. "What in God's name - what the _hell _are you doing here?"

Blaine felt the familiar rise of panic, his throat constricting. _No. _

He straightened up, swallowing down his nerves. "I … I thought we could talk. The only times we … well, I just. I would like a chance to explain myself, to explain to you that I - why I'd never hurt Kurt … that I _love _him - ... that he's- he's the best thing that's ever happened to me. "

Burt stood up, back ramrod straight, his height working to appropriately intimidate Blaine. The man placed his work tool on the bench beside him, grabbing a grubby rag to wipe at the oil on his fingers.

"I see. So, you come here, in hopes of seeing Kurt, and then when he's not here you make up some lines to me?"

"What – why would I come _here_ to see Kurt? And – he doesn't want that, doesn't want to break your trust again, and I'm respecting that -"

"Are you? Because it looks like you're - yet again - encroaching on my property and invading my life. Frankly, I'm sick of seeing you, I'm sick of hearing about you. I don't like that you've come between my son and I and I don't like that you've convinced him he's in love with you. It'd be best for my family and me if you just disappeared."

The tears threatening to brim behind his eyes were irrational, Blaine knew. Burt wasn't telling him anything he didn't already know. But, God – everything had just been so tough lately, and he was _trying so hard, _but nothing seemed to be enough for anyone. Do the mistakes you make when you're young, do they define who you are forever? Is he ever going to be able to escape this idea people have of him in their heads? Why couldn't they see – why couldn't they see what Kurt sees?

And Blaine remembered – remembered how Kurt had comforted him, _looked _at him, _held_ him - just been there. And it was real, and it was worth it. It was worth everything.

"Mr. Hummel, I – I completely understand. And if you – if you just give me five minutes. If you just hear me out, this one time, I promise – if after that you tell me to get lost, you'll never hear from me or about me again. I swear."

Burt measured him, looking him over a few times, before slowly nodding his head and pointing to a little room in the back that looked like an office. Blaine followed him to the room, heart pounding in his ears.

Burt closed the door behind them, gesturing to a seat in front of a large desk, which Burt moved to sit behind. "Sit. Talk."

Blaine opened his mouth – air came gushing out. He closed it again, clenching his eyes shut, shaking his head. When he opened them – Burt was looking at him curiously.

"I – I know what you think of me, and for the most part you are - you're right. I _was_ a drug dealer. I am 26 years old. But – those things – their not… who I _am. _Who I am - is someone who's just trying to find out how to care about things again. Who I am is… someone who has been taught to love by a boy who showed up at my house with bright eyes and rosy cheeks and took over my life like a whirlwind. Kurt is – he's just. Everything, sir."

Burt crossed his arms over his chest, and his glare hadn't abided. _Fuck._

"… I know it seems – it _is _– strange, and I know you think I'm some kind of … creep, or whatever – but. The age – it means nothing, _nothing, _to someone like me."

Blaine closed his eyes, and the words just rolled out of him. It was like they were bursting to be freed from his mind, "It's the weirdest … contradiction, because, I never had a chance to be a teenager - but I've been a perpetual teenager my whole adult life. - … I was, um, kicked out of home at 14, when I came out. Or – rather, when I was outed. Ever since then, it's been ... me, fighting to actually just stay alive. But I never – I never even went to High School." Blaine caught himself, he didn't want Burt to get the impression he was completely clueless, "I still – I read, _all the time, _I just … I missed out. I never _got_ to be a teenager."

Burt interrupted him, then, "What, so Kurt's you desperately capturing your youth?"

"No! _No. _Kurt is … Kurt is so much stronger; he is so _beyond_ his years. We – we compliment each other, challenge each other. There is no way – _no-one_ could ever be in a co-dependant relationship with him -… he's too fierce, powerful."

Burt smirked at that, eyes gleaming with a quiet, proud acknowledgement, and Blaine continued –

"But I think – because of that, people tend to forget that he needs comfort, too - that he needs to be told that he will never be alone. And – I don't mean that, about – I don't mean that you don't tell him that, Mr. Hummel. It's just … sometimes I think Kurt thinks he has to be strong _all the time, _because that's the image he projects. So when – when bad things happen, he takes them on board and _carries _them. And all I want – all I want is to be there, to carry it with him. I love him, sir. All of him, every – every last bit of him, and I want to give him the world." Blaine shrugged his shoulders, neck flushed a deep crimson, and eyes' welling with how much truth was dripping from every pore in his skin.

"Kurt thinks – he thinks I gave up my life for him. But the truth is, that I didn't – I didn't have a life, before him, before love. I never want Kurt to be near the life I lead before him, and he never will be, sir. I'd protect him from everything, I'd stop all the bad things he carries – if, if I could. I just want to try, sir. Please."

Blaine's voice cracked, his shoulders slumped. The room was braced in an eerie silence, the only sound the _tick, tock _of the clock on the wall outside the room. Blaine let himself look up, to be met with – Burt was looking at him, but for the first time – he was actually _looking. _There was no sneer, or venom, or anger. His face was a blank slate.

Burt squinted his eyes, sighing. "You like pot roast, Blaine?"

"Uh – wha- Yeah? Sir?"

"Look … you've had a hard life. I get it. And maybe I was – no, actually, I was well within my rights to react how I did. But maybe I misjudged you. I'm not saying I'm going to let you two _date_ – but, well. The kid's been hell to live with the past few weeks, moping around like I've destroyed his entire life. Even though he claims to understand and to not be angry, I see it. He ... actually cares for you. I, I get it."

Blaine felt a swelling of hope beam through him, desperately trying to stop himself from smiling like a fool. "So …?"

Burt sighed, standing up. "So. I got to get back to work. But come by the house for dinner about 7 tonight, Carole's making pot roast. Maybe it's time we all talked, got to know each other a little better."

Blaine nodded fervently, rushing forward to shake Burt's hand, "Th-thank you, sir. I'll be there – 7 O'clock."

Burt gave an amused huff, before walking out to the car he was working on earlier.

Blaine left the shop feeling a smile twitching at his lips, heart pounding with adrenaline, nerves fired. _He gets to see Kurt tonight._


	18. Part 17

**PART 17**

Burt had been acting strange all afternoon. As soon as Kurt had returned from his lunch break, he'd noticed a change. His Dad kept … _looking _at him. It was weird. It was like this nostalgic, misty, far away gaze, and whenever Kurt caught him he'd clear his throat awkwardly and look away, pushing his cap forward. It was _ridiculous. _

So, obviously, Kurt was at his wits end when they were in the car on the way home and his dad was dead silent. Normally, he'd try to make small talk, maybe chat away about the cars he'd worked on that day while Kurt nodded and pretended he cared. But … today it was just, silence.

"Okay, Dad, seriously – what the hell?" Kurt's voice broke through the air, abrupt and slightly louder than intended.

Burt looked stunned out of his thoughts, he shifted uncomfortably, "What?" eyes flitting briefly across to Kurt in the passenger seat.

"You've been acting strange all afternoon!" Kurt noticed the flash of … something, behind his eyes, "…What's going on?"

Burt looked away, focusing on the road, shrugging. "I don't know. I guess I just … sometimes I forget how much you've grown over the last few years. I guess it's just hit me that … well, I. I'm just – really proud of you, Kurt."

Kurt blinked. "Wha – I." His eyes softened, face flushed, "Um - thanks, Dad-…"

Silence, once again. Burt leant over, turning the stereo volume up.

Kurt shot him a questioning glance, before shaking his head and looking out the window.

* * *

Hours later at home in their dining room, Burt was still acting out of the ordinary, only now so was Carole, who was grinning at him at different intervals for _no reason_. Burt kept looking toward the front foyer like something was about to suddenly appear.

"Kurt, can you go get Finn and tell him dinner's almost ready?" Carole turned from her spot at the stove waving a wooden spoon in his direction.

Kurt looked down at the extra spot at the table his Dad had set with an inquisitive stare, before shrugging, "Yeah. Sure." And with that he rushed up the stairs.

When he came back down, Finn in tow, nothing could have prepared him for the sight at his dining table.

Because there, sat across from his father, fidgeting uncomfortably in the white dress shirt he was uncharacteristically donning, was Blaine.

Kurt's heart jumped in his chest, his eyes flitting from his father to Blaine.

"… Blaine? Wha- what?" His voice was soft, disbelieving, heart jumping all the way out of his chest.

Blaine smiled nervously, standing, but it was Burt who spoke –

"Blaine came in to see me today, and we … had a chat. I've, um – well, I have seen how hard it's been lately on you Kurt, I'm not stupid." Kurt's breath escaped him; he couldn't believe any of this, eyes flitting back and forth between his father and Blaine. Burt continued, though, "This isn't … this isn't me letting you off the hook for lying to me, okay? And this is not me giving my blessing for any kind of … well. _Funny_ business." Kurt's eyes widened impossibly, face hot, and Blaine let out an uncomfortable cough. "– but I am willing to be more understanding. So, well, Blaine is here for dinner."

Kurt's hands shook, his knees threatening to give out. "Th-thank you. Dad. I can't even- um." He shook his head, smiling and turning toward Blaine, who was staring at him like he'd never seen him before. They stood like that for what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time, because soon Finn was breaking the silence with his curiosity.

"Dude, um – what the hell is going on?"

Kurt turned, graced with Finn's uncomprehending expression – "Uhhh-"

Blaine jumped in, then, "Hi, Finn. Um. I know this is – well I." His hands twisted at his sleeve, before taking in a breath, "I'm _gay_. And Kurt and I – well, what I mean to say is – um, I'm in love with Kurt."

It was hard to tell whose eyes were wider, Kurt or Finn's.

"But – what – I mean …you like girls, dude - … _What_?" Finn looked down, looking like he was trying to understand advanced calculus.

Kurt rolled his eyes, "Finn. It is possible to lie. And I love Blaine, too, so …I hope you can accept that." He blushed, eyes darting to Blaine's, biting his lip to keep the impossibly large grin threatening to spread on his face at bay.

Carole spoke up then, a knowing smirk on her face, and Kurt realized she'd known then, as she announced that dinner was ready and for everyone to sit down.

Dinner was – surprisingly easy. There were few invasive questions from Burt, but it seemed like he knew a lot more about Blaine than Kurt thought – and that was what got to him. Blaine had gone to his father. Even though Blaine hated father figures, even though the mere idea of meeting him had him running for the hills the last time they were dating. That was… It was the sweetest thing any body had ever done for him.

As Carole and Finn bickered over the amount of food on his plate, Kurt slowly snuck his hand under the table to where Blaine was sat next to him, curling his hand over Blaine's, squeezing lightly. _Thank you, _is what he wanted to say. The past few weeks without him had been hell, despite his brave face – which had obviously not fooled anyone, including his father, go figure.

Later that night, after dinner and dessert, when Finn was upstairs and Carole was getting ready for bed while Burt and Blaine and Kurt washed up, Burt set down some – inevitable - ground rules. They weren't to be alone in a house together. Burt was to know where Kurt was at all times, and his curfew had been decreased to 9 p.m. every night during summer, and they would negotiate again when school started.

However, at the end of it -… he and Blaine had permission to see each other. And Kurt was busy questioning whether or not Blaine actually had magical powers when it came to his father, because this was something even Kurt could not have pulled off.

After washing up, Kurt and Blaine were allowed to go down to Kurt's room to talk, _door open,_ of course, and they were finally, blissfully, alone.

Blaine pulled him in, not even giving him a chance to say anything, crashing their lips together in an instant. Kurt moaned, his body collapsing into Blaine's, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, molding their bodies together. Their tongues met, Blaine pulling at Kurt's shirt. Kurt whined, loudly, and Blaine pulled back.

"Shit, baby, I missed you so much." He tucked his face into the curve at Kurt's neck, breathing him in.

Kurt's eyes welled up, making him feel exposed, but he held on tighter, "I missed you too – so much, Blaine, - I can't believe you – you talked to my Dad?"

Blaine nodded against his skin, "Yeah, it was – it was Cooper's idea. I just thought that – maybe, if he knew more about us he'd um, give us a chance."

Kurt beamed, leant back and placed a kiss to his forehead. "Thank you, thank you, _thank you."_

Blaine shook his head, though – "You don't understand. I was willing to try anything, honestly. God, Kurt, I can't even – for some reason, it hurt more this time to be away from you. And that's – saying a _lot, _because the last time was fucking awful."

Kurt nodded, whispering against his cheek, still clinging on tight, "I know – I know, I was the same, I promise. Missed you."

They held each other, then, rocking back and forth. After almost a year of learning one another, changing, growing, comforting – it felt like they'd come through a storm and all that was left was the desperate need to never let go.

Blaine took a step back, laying his hands on Kurt's waist. "I promised you I wasn't going to let you go, right? That still stands."

Kurt smiled, curving his arms across Blaine's neck, "Even when I'm old and grey?"

"_Especially _then."

"Even when I'm tired and bitter and snapping at you every five minutes?"

"Absolutely."

Kurt bit his lip, looking down, Blaine's gaze was hypnotic but intense – it just clawed into his skin and made him _feel everything. _Nervously this time, with a smaller voice, Kurt questioned again –

"What about … when I'm running off to chase show business in New York?"

Blaine caught his eyes, standing tall, hands squeezing comfortingly at Kurt's waist – "I'll be right there with you."

All joking aside, everything was suddenly so _real_ and sinking in. Kurt leant in, and captured Blaine's lips once again.

They were unconventional, and they had both made mistakes. But they were given a second chance to begin again, and both boys knew that second chances were few and far between. This time they'd cling to it, because neither one was willing to let the trials of life distract them again.

* * *

_THE END. _

__I AM SO SORRY that this took so long! Any way, this story needed to be wrapped up, I felt. I wanted to tell the story of them falling in love, and to drag it on would have been difficult for me. Thank you to every single person who has read, followed, favorited or reviewed. This was my first time writing and your support means everything.

If anybody wants to see one shots in the future of this verse you can PM and I'll try my best.

3 Heartattackandvine


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